Snowstorm
by Shay McSudonim
Summary: Though the setting is mostly Soul Eater, the 'soul' of this fic is nearly all Ouran: there may be plot, but only if it doesn't interfere with the crack- and waff-based reveries that served as inspiration. A story in three parts. Parts one and two: complete. Part three: incomplete.
1. Chapter 1

Incomplete list of tags: Female!Chrona, Jerk!Maka'sMom, Weapon/Meister!OuranCharacters, Witch/Clown/Shinigami!OuranCharacters. Contains OC's and OC POV, Multi-Crossover (Major: Ouran, Soul Eater, Soul Eater Not. Medium: Portal, Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya. Minor: Trigun). Gratuitous Song Parodies. Did Not Do The Research.

* * *

Part One: Role Reversal

* * *

All angles examined and all avenues explored, one would be hard-pressed to deny that the mind of Patricia Thompson was a warped, twisted, and altogether strange collection of gray matter.

Of course, common sense seemed to indicate that partnering with a death-god would do odd things to anyone's head, but... well, Elizabeth Thompson was just as much a member of their shadowy fellowship as was her younger sister, and she was obviously still normal.

So, according to general consensus, Patty's particular brand of insanity was entirely of her own making.

And she reveled in it.

"Yay!" said Patty, "Boom!"

Behind her, an old building exploded. The pieces of rubble, which had once been an art museum, fell heavily to the ground. If Patty had hands, she would have clapped them in delight. But, since she happened to be a weapon at that precise moment, she had to content herself with giggling maniacally.

"Patty!" chided her sister, Liz. "That museum was important!"

"But Kid's the one who blew it up!" Patty pointed out. "I just think it's funny!"

Their meister, Death the Kid, paused at this. He was a short guy who wore expensive clothes, aristocratic bling, and who possessed three unnatural white lines on one side of his hair. Currently, he was slumped in misery. That building had been perfectly symmetrical, and he'd accidentally leveled it.

Suddenly, another voice called out to them; it was female, but not excessively feminine.

"Kid!" said the voice, "Come on, we have to go!"

Patty's meister looked up to see a thin girl with green eyes, dark blonde hair, and a gigantic scythe: it was Soul Eater Evans, the Demon Scythe, and his meister, Maka Albarn.

Patty liked the Scythe duo. Of course, since they were her teammates, it would have been unfortunate if they couldn't at least get along. But, even outside the realm of school-requirements demanding that all Eat Class partnerships be part of a team, she really did respect them. Next to Kid, those two, along with her other teammates, definitely made the list of Patty's favorite people in Shibusen.

Plus, it didn't hurt that Soul was already a Death Scythe, one of the first of their generation: second only to Justin Law (who was usually put together with the older Death Scythes, regardless of the fact that Law was only two years older than they were). As the saying went, it was good to be king... and it was equally enjoyable to be colleagues and friends with the big man on campus.

Admittedly, though, now probably wasn't the best time to reminisce. Their group had just gotten the bus-load of kids that they were escorting to the safe point, and away from the group of Laotian Witches who had been trying to kidnap them. It was an unusual mission, in that they were facing Witches rather than pre-Kishin, but the humanitarian aspect outweighed normal mission conventions, it seemed.

Thus far, their battle had escalated to include the destruction of an art museum under construction, as well as a parking garage. Currently, the Spectacular Seven that comprised Team Albarn were fighting for their lives, against the Witches who they had deprived of their prey, while standing on the roof of a corporate building. The midday sun shone into their eyes, giving their opponents advantage, but Team Shibusen still had the Witches outnumbered, seven to two.

Now Patty didn't admit it—because life was so much more fun when people thought you were insane—but she did know when to take things seriously—unlike a certain blue-haired meister that she knew.

"Whoo!" screamed The Great Black-Star, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

The loud-spoken, boundless well of exuberance—who was currently trying to take on both Witches single-handedly—was both meister to Patty's friend, Tsubaki and arrogant wanabee-god.

Now that their mission was accomplished, and the civilians had locked themselves inside the safe-house, the entire team wanted nothing more than to make a retreat, while they were all still uninjured.

Unfortunately, the Witches seemed to have other things in mind, and had them all cornered against the edge of the rooftop.

There were two Witches, though they'd yet to see them as humans. For just as Medusa had been able to turn into a snake because she was the Snake Witch, the same logic could also be applied to the two they were fighting—meaning they were the Hawk Witch and the Chimera Witch.

...which meant that, when they weren't keeping their eyes from being pecked out by the one, they were avoiding a snake-head-tail and fangs of the other.

More terrifying than this, however, was the fact that they were losing.

_"This isn't working,"_ Kid told them all, silently, through their chain resonance-link. _"On my signal, be prepared to smash and run."_

_"Okay,"_ acknowledged Maka, her eyes roving, already scouting out the best escape route.

_"Are you sure? I think we can take these guys—"_

_"Black-Star..."_ said Tsubaki in a weary voice, remembering many missions-gone-by when her partner had failed to appreciate the better part of valor.

_"All right, fine,_" said the Assassin, catching her annoyance through their resonance, or possibly just her tone of 'voice'.

_"—Now!"_ yelled the Shinigami.

Maka and Soul let loose a Witch Hunter and were over the edge and headed for cover before the dust had settled; Black-Star shot off one of his Big Wave soul attacks and appeared to hesitate for a moment or two, before following Maka; Kid hung back and activated his Death Cannon, and then followed suit, bringing up the rear in their little retreat.

The next few minutes consisted of running like heck. Not the most dignified of exits, but, for a few minutes at least, it seemed to work.

At least, it did until the Hawk Witch dropped down in front of them, turned human, and hit them all with a spell that flashed everything a sickly shade of saffron.

As soon as the attack was completed, the Witch flew off again—but this went unnoticed, as Kid, Maka, and Black-Star were down for the count. Rather than getting up, like they normally would after any attack less damaging than a mortal blow, the technicians remained motionless, splayed out on the asphalt of the roadway that had, until recently, been their escape-route.

"Kid!" screamed Liz, reverting to human form to check on her fallen meister. Patty followed, not even a heartbeat behind.

Next to them, Tsubaki and Soul were doing the same.

"Maka!"

"Black-Star, wake up!"

But the three just lay there: bodies limp and unconscious, minds dead to the waking-world.

* * *

A few hours later, the four weapons had brought their meisters back to the DWMA, their ridiculously extravagant home (they'd gone to a local hospital first, of course, but the doctors there hadn't been able to do much for the injured). According to Stein, the academy expert on Witches, it would likely be another few hours before they woke again.

In the meantime, the four weapons hung around the infirmary, pestering Stein for details.

"Professor, what happened to them?" asked Liz. "What exactly was that spell?"

Patty, however, wasn't listening to the explanation. Instead, she was in the corner, making paper dolls out of the silken bed sheets of the overly opulent school hospital.

Kid would wake up soon, she was sure. They all would: Maka and Black-Star too. And then things would be back to normal. Or as normal as things ever got at the Death Weapon Meister Academy, at least.

Sure, Patty could listen to the 'hows' and the 'whys' of it, but she, personally, felt it more important to deal with her own stress over the issue, so that she could offer a stable shoulder to Kid, once he woke again.

And so, she continued using her scissors on the cloth and listened to time tick by, noted by the tolling of the pink clock tower at campus center.

* * *

It was Maka who awoke first, and it was Tsubaki who noticed it.

"Soul," said the Shadow Weapon in an undertone, nodding her head at the blonde scythe meister, as she began to stir.

"Maka." The Death Scythe sighed in relief, moving over to hold her hand.

"Soul?" Maka asked, confused at the concern in his voice. "Is everything all—"

At this point, she seemed to remember why she was asleep.

"Soul!" She brought her other hand over to grip his, pulling herself to a sitting position, wearing a worried expression. Maka met Soul's eyes, briefly, before checking to see who else was in the room, frowning as she noticed the other two unconscious meisters. "Are Black-Star and Kid all right?" she asked.

"No worse than you, we think," answered Liz. "Although, you're the first to wake."

Maka nodded slowly in acknowledgment. "What happened?"

"The Witches hit us with spell," said Patty. "We don't know if it did anything besides knock you out—"

"—but it's very suspicious that it only affected the meisters," finished Liz.

"Do you feel sick?" asked Soul, trying to play cool, now that it was unlikely his partner was in real danger.

"No," said Maka, "not really. But I do feel... strange."

That caught their attention.

"Strange how?" asked Tsubaki, her eyes going wide with worry.

"Like... like I've got all this pent-up energy, but I can't get rid of it..." she said, trailing off in dissatisfaction. She tried again. "No... that's not_ exactly _it." She shook her head in frustration, giving up for the moment on fully articulating her feelings.

There was silence. That didn't sound good. They spent a few moments in fretful contemplation before another of the meisters regained consciousness.

"...Maka?" said a weak voice. "Is that you?"

"Kid!"

The young Shinigami was immediately glomped by Patty and a very relieved Liz—though the elder sibling had the presence of mind to let go, once she realized that Kid might be injured. Patty either didn't realize or didn't care and continued to hold onto her meister like he was a teddy bear... or possibly a giraffe.

Kid, looking over Patty's shoulder, returned the hug and slowly took in the scene of the infirmary. "I take it I was injured?" he asked.

"We don't know," said Liz, miserably. "They cast that spell at all of us, but only you three passed out. Maka says she feels 'strange'," Liz finished.

Kid thought about it. "I feel... different," he decided, "but not wrong. It's new, but not new."

"What is?" asked the Demon Pistol.

"My powers have somehow changed," Kid answered.

"What?" The others had no idea what to make of such a statement.

"That's it," agreed Maka. "Before there was never this... potential, or this vulnerability." She caught Soul's eyes. "It's not that I _feel_ different, so much as I _am_ different... my strengths and weaknesses have been rearranged... but I'm not sure just how, yet."

She and Kid continued to debate possibilities until, after a few minutes, they all heard a strangled sort of groan. They turned to find Black-Star, awake, and staring in shock at his own hand, which currently looked less like a human appendage than it did a metal cylinder.

"Black-Star?" cried Tsubaki in alarm, hastening over to get a get a closer look.

"Why am I a weapon?" asked the Assassin, eyes glazed over in disbelief as the gun barrel on his arm turned back into his hand.

The other six teammates were well and truly in shock by this point, so it took a few moments before any of them could reply.

Finally, Tsubaki took it upon herself to explain. "...the Witches attacked us before we got away," she said, "Remember, Black-Star?

He frowned. "Yeah," he said, "but, why would they turn us into weapons? Seems like killing us would be less effort..."

"Maybe the spell switched weapon and meister powers," suggested Tsubaki; then she realized what this might mean, and panicked. She transformed her hair to a chain to make sure she still possessed weapon abilities.

Patty hastily transformed into a pistol and was caught by Liz; then, they switched roles so Liz could check. When they were finally both in human form again, the Thompson sisters breathed a sigh of relief.

Soul surreptitiously transformed one of his arms to a blade, before coolly shaking his head at his concern.

After that scare, the weapons... the original weapons, were eager to move on to a new topic.

"So, then..." said Tsubaki, "are Maka and Kid weapons, too?"

"Perhaps," mused Kid, who was halfway convinced that he was dreaming, regardless of the fact that death-gods didn't sleep. "Black-Star," he asked, "how did you transform?"

"You just do it," the human shrugged. "It's like hitting someone with your soul-wavelength, or like soul-resonance. Although, it may only be easy for me because I'm so awesome..."

"I see," said the Shinigami, ignoring the backhanded insult.

Kid closed his eyes and concentrated.

A moment later, light flashed and a pistol spun through the air. Liz and Patty reached out simultaneously to catch it.

"Kid?" asked Liz, wide-eyed at the contrast between the familiar weapon form in her hands, and the entirely unprecedented sight of her meister's reflection on the surface of said form.

"You look just like us!" Patty said, grinning a mile wide, snatching the pistol, and shooting off a few rounds of blue wavelength at what quickly ceased to be a vase of flowers.

"Well, of course..." said the newly-turned weapon, his reflection wearing an expression of utmost sincerity as he continued to speak, "...I couldn't possibly have any other form, because this is the only way to maintain complete symmetry!"

For a few moments after this proclamation, there was silence.

Finally, "... what?" said Kid, upon seeing the incredulous looks directed his way, particularly from Soul and Tsubaki, who had some inkling of just how unusual it was to have identical weapon forms, even among family.

The Thompson Sisters, they were well-aware, possessed a improbable degree of similarity for non-twins, though even sharing the day of birth didn't always speak of similarity. The fraternal twins, Fire and Thunder, for example were only identical in appearance, not in weapon attributes...

In other words, although familial affections could easily produce surfacial similarity of blood-relatives' weapon forms... Kid's symmetry obsession went soul-deep, ensuring complete alignment with his partners, both in his weapon form's appearance and its function. On a technical level, it was a sheer impossibility... but, considering that this was Kid, it honestly wasn't even that big of a surprise.

... and though they were all scared, on some level, about what this new development might mean, in that one moment, the seven of them couldn't do anything but laugh. Their roles as weapons and meisters may not have been as clear-cut as they were before this whole mess came about... but, whatever else had changed, they were still the same people, and they were still the same team.

* * *

That being said, things got a lot worse before they got better.

"You want us to do _what_?" Kid asked, staring at his father in horror.

"Find new partners," said Lord Death, looking around at the shocked faces of the rest of Kid's team, who stood before him in the Death Room.

"But, father..." protested Kid, "we're a team!"

"Kid, I didn't want to do this..." began Shinigami-sama, "but you do realize that seven is an asymmetrical number?"

Kid froze. Apparently, he hadn't ever realized before that their team had seven members: one short of the sacred number 8. However, after staring blankly ahead in horror for a few moments as he wrestled with his internal revulsion, the younger Shinigami shook his head and faced his father, announcing, "I don't care."

Lord Death sighed. "Yes, but there's a reason weapons pair up with meisters, Kid-kun:" he began, "any training a weapon undergoes strengthens their weapon form, not their human one," the Shinigami continued, taking in the stubborn expressions of the children of Team Albarn, "And your transformation into weapons seems to have transferred your meister powers into your weapon selves." He paused a moment, considering that this might be considered an upside to this situation. "Now, this means that you'll probably make exceptionally powerful Death Scythes..." he admitted, "but, for now at least, you're much weaker than you were. You won't be able to act as meisters to your weapons," he said, trying to break the blow as gently as possible, but still drive the point home. "It would be better for you all to find meisters who are able to bring out your potential."

"But," protested Kid, "we don't care about being meisters. We just want to keep our partnerships." Maka and Black-Star nodded in agreement, fiercely determined not to give up so easily.

"But what about your weapons?" asked Lord Death, glancing at the four in question. "Would you ask them to put themselves in danger, by acting as meisters when they haven't been trained for it?"

Kid looked stunned. Maka and Black-Star exchanged a worried glance. Truth be told, this wasn't something they'd considered. Though that wasn't surprising, taking into account the fact that the three had only learned about the possibility of having to switch partners a few minutes ago.

For more than a minute, Maka and Kid were silent, furiously trying to think of a way around this new dilemma. Black-Star was also silent, although his thoughts were more along the lines of hoping that the other two would have a sudden flash of inspiration, because he had nothing.

"I... guess you're right," Kid said, eventually, heaving a sigh. "We'll..." he grimaced, "start looking for new partners."

Black-Star was stoic, and Maka looked as though she might start crying, but they both prepared to follow Kid from the room, when the young death-god looked like he was about to leave.

"Wait," said Soul, breaking Maka's increasingly pessimistic train of thought "Don't we get a say in this?"

The three meisters stopped in their tracks.

"I mean," he continued, "I'm a Death Scythe. Surely I'm at least more powerful than a beginning meister? Why can't I keep my partner?"

Lord Death thought it over, reluctantly. "You are experienced enough to learn the ways of a meister, Soul Eater," he admitted, "but it would not be easy. For the both of you," he said, glancing from Soul to Maka, "this would be like starting over. You would be dropped down to one star, you would be removed from Spartoi, and the two of you would join the Not Class," he said, laying out possibilities like a judge sentencing a guilty party to prison-time. "Knowing all this," he said, "do you still want to remain partners?"

This wasn't a trivial matter for either of them.

Though, supposedly, the only difference between the 'Eat' Class and the 'Not' Class was the level of rigor and responsibility, there were quite a few talented meister-weapon pairs in the Not Class, while some of the kids in the Eat Class were incompetent to the point of incredulity. Although, there _was_ an unofficial dividing line which made a good deal more sense when compared to the evidence. Namely: kids in the Eat Class almost all came from wealthy backgrounds, while those in the Not Class were generally middle-class or lower.

Indeed, though the teachers tried to quash the practice, the unofficial name of the Not Class was the "Commoners' Class". And, like it or don't, the Not Class had much less prestige associated with it. Transferring was the social equivalent of swallowing cyanide.

Still, you wouldn't have known it from the way Maka's partner was talking.

"For me," said Soul, "there's no question: yes."

"Soul, you're already a Death Scythe," started Maka. "You don't need to stay partners with me anymore—"

The Demon Scythe raised an eyebrow. "Uh, Maka?" he said, giving her an aside glance, "Not to rain on your parade, but... technically? It's not like I _ever_ needed to stay partners with you. I mean, Justin Law didn't have a meister, and he made Death Scythe at thirteen: It would definitely have taken me longer, but I could have done something similar, if the Death Scythe ambition was really my only reason for enrolling. I didn't agree to be partners because I 'needed' a meister to drag me up through the ranks. I did it because I 'wanted' a friend who would help make me stronger, and who I could help in return." Here, he folded his arms. "Why would that change just because I became a Death Scythe?"

"Soul..." said Maka, unaccustomed to hearing him speak with so little sarcasm.

"Besides," continued the white-haired weapon, "we may not have a Kishin running around loose anymore, but there's still a lot of nasty stuff out there... and nothing and nobody is going to keep you from going after it," he gave her a somewhat exasperated look. Ah yes, there was the bantering partner she remembered._ "Someone's_ gotta keep you alive, until you're powerful enough to stand on your own again, at least..."

He shrugged. "So stop feeling guilty. I wanna do this."

The Kishin-killer smiled, and then she hugged him.

"Maka! Seriously—uncool!" Soul's tone was one of annoyance, but, since Maka couldn't see his face, he allowed himself a small smile.

Liz and Patty moved to stand beside Kid. "Who needs training?" Liz asked, looking coolly at Lord Death, some of the street-punk that she used to be shining through. "Patty and I fought as both meister and weapon for years before we met Kid," she said, flipping her hair. "Besides, we're very nearly Death Scythes already."

Tsubaki took a breath. "I would like to stay with Black-Star," she said, sounding surprisingly assertive on the matter.

Lord Death sighed, paused for a long moment, and then answered them.

"I concede that Soul is capable of acting as a meister," Lord Death began, "and he may maintain his partnership, if he so desires. However," he paused, "Liz, Patty, Tsubaki, you simply aren't powerful enough to train as technicians yet, and I cannot in good conscience allow you to remain partners with Black-Star and Kid."

Kid sighed. Black-Star just nodded, because he didn't want Tsubaki to get hurt. The Shadow Weapon, on the other hand, was heartbroken, "But—" she began.

Before she could say another word, she and Black-Star were surrounded by their not-quite-former teammates. "Excuse us for a minute," said Soul, before drawing Black-Star and Tsubaki off into a group huddle with Kid, Liz, Patty, and Maka.

After a few minutes of hurried whispering, they turned to face Lord Death.

Soul stepped forward. "Shinigami-sama," he said, "what if Liz, Patty, and Tsubaki were to become Death Scythes? Would they be able to keep their old partnerships?"

"How do you propose to do this without finding new partners?" asked Lord Death, tilting his head as he considered this.

"Power of friendship," said Liz immediately.

"Not the way I would put it," said Soul. "But, yeah. Our team is a very close one. You gave permission for me to act as meister, so I will: I'll partner with Liz, Patty, and Tsubaki, until they all make Death Scythe."

"The three of us will find temporary partners," supplied Kid, indicating himself, Black-Star, and Maka.

"Once we're strong enough," continued Soul, "we'll act as meisters to our three new weapons."

Shinigami-sama sighed. "You guys never could do things the easy way, could you?" he asked.

Soul grinned a grin that was full of razors. "Of course not," he answered.

"... fine then," said the death-god. "If you're so dead-set on this, I can't stop you." Lord Death shook his head, already feeling a bit weary from the paperwork and gossip this was surely going to cause.

"Yes!" said Black-Star, pumping his fist towards the sky in victory. Then, he hugged Tsubaki, and everyone else soon joined in to form a group hug.

* * *

AN: Right, here's the game-plan. The first eight chapters are part one of a larger three-part story (Part 1: Role Reversal. Part 2: Death and Madness, Part 3: Oh the Shinigamity...) I have the whole thing outlined, it's just a matter of writing it down.

Part 1 is complete (As of 7-31-12, Part 2 is complete. It's chapters 9-26). But it might be two years before I actually finish this. So be warned, ye who continue reading.

It's possible I might get done faster, but no guarantees, and this is not a promise.

On the bright side, don't feel obligated to review, unless you actually want to. I'm fairly self-motivated: just not very efficient. I can see how many hits a story gets and, as long as people are reading, I'll keep making the effort to produce.

Ah yes, and if you're annoyed by massive cross-overs, just be warned that that's where this is headed. In terms of spoiler warnings for Part 1, pretty much all of Soul Eater and Ouran (both manga and anime), but eventually (for parts 2 and or 3) probably for Portal and Portal 2, Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya, Trigun, and a few others that have yet to be decided.

But really, this part essentially only has the Soul Eater characters, even if they are living in a universe that has overtones of Ouran elitism and time-wasting to it.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Forgot to add 'Soul Eater Not' to the list of spoilers. For any of you unfamiliar, it's a spin-off manga of the original Soul Eater starring Tsugumi Harudori, a Demon Halberd, and her two meisters: Anya Hepburn and Meme Tatanae. If you haven't read it, just treat them like OC's. I tend to extrapolate way too much from the minor characters, anyway...

* * *

The next day, the seven of them convened under the clock tower after breakfast—probably the last one they would consume in the Eat Class' vast dining hall.

"Well, then," said Soul, with a glance at his former meister, thinking how odd the whole situation was turning out to be. "We're off to start collecting Kishin-eggs," he said. "What are you guys doing today?"

Maka shrugged. "Finding new partners, I guess," she answered. "Though I'm honestly not sure how exactly they expect us to do that. It's the middle of the year: everyone already has a team."

"Ha! That's small thinking," said Black-Star, smug and self-confident to the core. "I, of course—being the living embodiment of all things strong and manly that I am—will surely have to beat the meisters off with a stick!"

"Is that so?" asked Kid, looking skeptical. "Well, I'm _rich," _he pointed out_._ "And this school has an ample supply of shallow people. I don't anticipate any difficulties."

Maka, for her part, raised an eyebrow. "You're both certain you'll be able to find partners?" she asked.

They nodded.

"Okay, then," said Maka. "How about we make this interesting?"

"...how?" asked Black-Star and Kid.

"At three this afternoon," she announced, as though laying down the rules for a tournament, "the three of us shall meet in the third music room with our partners. Anyone who doesn't show up with a meister is automatically the one who must tell everyone we're transferring to the Not Class."

Silence reigned for a moment, as the duo considered things.

"...and if everyone has a partner?" Black-Star wanted to know

Maka smiled hugely. "Then we don't tell anyone and let them figure it out for themselves!" she answered.

"Why not?" said Kid, sure he could find a partner somewhere.

"I'm in," said Black-Star, never afraid of a challenge.

"Great!" said Maka, eager to get things rolling before they started looking for hidden motives. "Time-start—now!" she said, chopping her hand down through the air like a referee starting a match.

Black-Star and Kid ran off at full speed.

"Black-Star, it's not a race!" Tsubaki called after her partner, who was, by now, out of hearing range.

Maka, however, remained behind.

"You've already found a meister, right?" asked Soul, knowing Maka wasn't the kind of person to make wagers.

"Yes," admitted Maka, allowing herself a smile. "An underclassman I know, Tsugumi Harudori, has two meisters. One of them has agreed to partner with me for awhile," she explained.

"Is it Meme or Anya?" asked Liz, recognizing the name of the first person who she'd warmed up to after being recruited by Shibusen.

"Meme," answered Maka. Liz gave her an odd look, clearly remembering Tatane's short-term memory loss.

"Well, it's not like I'm going all-out," Maka clarified. "I'm just trying to keep Lord Death happy, while we wait for you guys."

Patty nodded. "Yeah, the Not meisters don't even want to create Death Scythes, so keeping expectations low is probably a good idea."

"We'll see if we can make it back by three," said Tsubaki, an anticipatory grin on her face. "I'm just dying to see who Black-Star finds."

* * *

Several hours later, Maka and her temporary meister, Meme Tatanae, were the first two to arrive at the music room. The room itself contained a piano in one corner that was clean and well-maintained, but most of the other furniture was unused and dusty.

"Why are we meeting in a music room, anyway?" wondered Meme.

"For one thing, no one ever comes here, except for Soul," explained Maka. "So we kind of use it like a team-hangout."

"What was that about me?" asked the Demon Scythe, coming through the door. Liz, Patty, and Tsubaki followed him, looking to be in a good mood.

"Hi, Soul!" said Maka, greeting her roommate.

"So, this is Meme, then?" said Soul Eater, regarding the vacant-eyed meister with an appraising glance. "Take care of my partner while I'm training, alright?" said the Death Scythe as he seated himself at the piano and began to play, in an absent sort of way, as his mind was clearly elsewhere.

"Okay," said Meme, nodding in response before turning to the other people in the room. "Hi, Liz-chan. Patty-chan," Meme said.

"Long time no see," said Liz, moving over to clap Meme on the shoulder. The two of them exchanged a few words on gossip and recent events.

"Kid here yet?" Patty asked the rest of the group.

"Nope, haven't seen him," said Maka. "How did your mission go, by the way?"

Patty smiled. "Me and Liz both have nine more souls to go, each."

Maka was stunned. "Only nine?"

Liz nodded in satisfaction. "That's nine Kishin-eggs, by the way. We already defeated a couple of Witches with Kid a few months ago."

"I didn't realize two you were so close to being Death Scythes..." marveled Maka.

"Black-Star's no slouch, either," said Tsubaki, coming to her meister's defense. "We may not have defeated a Witch yet, but Black-Star and I collected seventy-six souls together."

"So, when we said we were finding temporary partners, we really weren't lying," noted Maka.

"Ain't life grand?" agreed Soul, trilling notes for a moment. "It's really a shame those Witches couldn't have waited another month or two before attacking us, otherwise we might not even be in this position, in the first place..."

At ten minutes til three, the door to the music room creaked reluctantly open to reveal Black-Star, who was followed by the Chameleon Witch, Angela. Closely shadowing them both was the Witch's guardian, Mifune.

"Black-Star?" asked Tsubaki, a surprised grin on her face. "Aww... you're thinking of getting closer to Angela? That's so adorable!"

"Angela," said Mifune, glancing at the other people in the room, "I think we might have misunderstood. Look. The guy already has a partner."

"Don't mind me!" said Tsubaki. "I'm just here for the show!"

"..." the Samurai wasn't quite sure what to say to that.

"We really are looking for temporary partners," said Maka, setting his worries at ease. "We just didn't think Black-Star would find anyone willing to work with him. Angela-chan's so nice for agreeing to this..."

Mifune blinked. "But your partners are all still present. They're in this very room..."

Black-Star shook his head. "We're not partners anymore. We hope to be, soon, but Lord Death told us we had to find new teammates, at least for now."

"Why—?" the swordsman began to ask, but was interrupted by the arrival of Death the Kid.

"... I don't believe it," said Maka, when she saw who accompanied him.

Soul stiffened. He'd recently had a disagreement with Kid's companion, but he remained silent. Black-Star, on the other hand, broke down into harsh laughter.

"Oh man, Kid," said the Assassin. "You really were desperate, weren't you?"

The young Shinigami wore a haggard expression. "You think I asked for this?" asked Kid. "I was just minding my own business, asking around for people looking for partners, when this—person—attacked me and insisted that she wanted to help!"

"Nya," said the purple Cat which had its claws sunk into his shoulder. "Shinigami-kun and I will be the best team in Shibusen!"

Maka clapped a hand to her mouth in an effort to stifle a fit of giggles.

Angela, however, was unaffected by the humorous atmosphere in the room, and instead walked curiously up to the Cat. "Are you a Witch?" she asked, seriously.

In a puff of smoke, Blair became a human, if a scantily-clad one, with purple hair. "Of course not!" she said. "I'm a Cat!"

"Oh," Angela sighed in relief. "I'm Angela, Chameleon Witch."

"I'm Blair," smiled the Magical Cat.

"You're the Human Cat?" asked Angela.

"Yep!" said Blair.

"Wait," said Black-Star. "What?"

Before Black-Star could inquire further, however, Blair's and Soul's eyes locked... and all other conversations fizzled to a halt.

The Cat looked a bit guilty.

Soul was angry, but he shook his head. "It's fine," he said. "You're helping Kid, and that's important."

Maka, Tsubaki, Black-Star, Patty, Liz, and Kid breathed a sigh of relief at these words. They weren't sure themselves exactly what conflict had led the Death Scythe to kick Blair out of his and Maka's apartment the previous month, but it was something bad enough to cause the normally mellow weapon to lose his cool. That alone was testament to the severity of the situation.

Still, it looked as though things were simmering down, and Blair felt comfortable enough to go back to baiting Kid.

"Kid-kun," she asked. "Not that I'm not used to stealing someone else's man, but why are you abandoning Liz-chan and Patty-chan?"

"I'm _not_," the Shinigami said. "This is just temporary."

Blair smirked. "Oh," she said. "So _that's_ how it is."

Kid's expression turned mortified. "I have no idea what you're thinking, but you're wrong."

"Sure, sure, Kid-kun," said Blair in a patronizing tone, "I completely understand. I've never understood how people could stick with the same old partner all the time, anyhow." Her face turned thoughtful. "Though, you'd think it might be more interesting with two..."

"Liz, Patty—help!"

"Oh, Kid, how could you do this to us?" asked Liz in mock melancholy. "We always did our best to make you happy!"

"Why me?" asked Kid.

"Guys," said Maka, "Come on, I think he's going to die of embarrassment."

"Sounds like that'd be fun to watch," commented Soul, his voice even. The Demon Scythe was trying to make a joke, but was still too obviously on-edge to pull it off.

Maka ignored him. "Blair?" she said. "I'll show you what's going on. Meme-chan?"

"Hi, Maka," said Meme.

White light engulfed Maka, and then Meme was left holding a whip.

"... what?" Blair tilted her head to one side. "Maka?" she asked. "Where did you go?"

Two more flashes of light resulted in Angela having a missile-launcher on one shoulder, and Patty holding a gun: one that looked just like her and her sister's weapon-forms, but which couldn't have been, because the Thompson sisters were both still human.

"So then, you three are weapons now," observed Mifune.

"Got it in one," agreed Liz. "The big boss-man won't let us keep our partnerships unless at least one member of each group is a Death Scythe," began Liz.

"The three of us are just stalling," continued Maka, returning to her human form. "Soul's already a Death Scythe, Liz and Patty are almost there, and, once they are, there will be three Death Scythes to help Tsubaki get her last twenty-four souls."

"So, Angela won't be in danger?" the Witch's guardian wanted to know.

Black-Star shook his head dismissively. "Nah," he said. "We don't even have to go on missions. We just need to actually have meisters, while we're waiting around."

"Kid's so shiny!" exclaimed Blair, admiring the pistol that she'd managed to wrest from an irate Patty.

Kid's reflection on the gun's surface looked terrified.

"Well," commented Black-Star, obviously amused, "at least you guys can match soul wavelengths."

And it was true. Blair was able to hold Kid's weapon form without any problems whatsoever.

"We're thinking of forming a group," said Maka, speaking to Mifune around the antics of the others, "to give an excuse for why me, Kid, and Black-Star aren't collecting souls. We just need a name." Then, to the entire group: "What do you guys think of 'The Edification Society'?" Maka asked.

"Sounds dumb," commented Black-Star. "Why do we need a name, anyway?"

"'Edification Society' it is!" said Maka.

* * *

AN: For any of you with a keen eye for detail... yes, I have been putting Ouran Landmarks in Shibusen. For the purposes of this story, the Death Weapon Meister Academy is a bizarre hybrid of Ouran Academy and Lord Death's school.

And you were all expecting the Host Club to be in the third music room, right? Sorry to disappoint, but this is kind of AU in that the Ouran Characters don't attend any place that resembles Ouran Academy... but more on that later.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day was the first for the team since their transfer to the Not Class.

Specifically, it was still early in the morning: Angela was attending the local elementary school, Blair was working the day-shift at Chupa Cabra, and Meme was still attending class.

Since there wasn't much Maka, Kid, and Black-Star could do until their temporary partners were available (not that they would do much anyway, but it was the principle of the thing...), Tsubaki had suggested the seven members of their not-technically-a-team do some training together, to foster a sense of normality.

Somehow, they wound up trekking up to Excalibur's caverns, which were out at the edge of the school grounds, just past the fountain with the tacky statue of a naked boy relieving himself, to find an empty cave in which to practice.

It took the Holy Sword all of five minutes to show up.

"Fool!" boomed Excalibur. "My legend begins in the twelfth century!"

Maka, Black-Star, and Kid cringed in recognition. Their weapons, however...

"Hello, Excalibur," said Liz. "Nice day, isn't it?"

"Fool! There are meisters around!" said Excalibur, one of his eyes twitching.

"No, there aren't," said Patty, unconcerned.

"Yes, there are!" exclaimed Excalibur, brandishing his cane in the direction of Maka, Black-Star, and Kid.

"No, there aren't!" repeated Patty, raising her her voice in escalation, looking perfectly content to continue the shouting match for as long as she could.

"Patty," sighed Soul, "Don't encourage him."

The Demon Scythe turned to Excalibur. "She's right," Soul told him. "We're all weapons."

The Holy Sword tapped his cane slowly as he processed this bit of information. "Then... you're saying that you trust these three enough to acknowledge them as weapons? Very well, I suspect them to be good people, and I shall do the same."

Excalibur leaned against the wall, looking saner than Kid, Maka, and Black-Star had ever seen him. "Now," he began, "what brings you here?"

"We were just going to do some training," said Liz, "and we wanted to avoid the main crowd while we did it."

"I see." Excalibur settled against the wall with a cup of tea to observe.

After a moment of awkward silence, the Shinigami decided to start things off.

"Right," said Kid, addressing his teammates, "I know father wanted to split up my team, as well as Tsubaki and Black-Star, but, frankly, I can't see how our resonance-links with any other members of the group would be as strong as our links with each other. So, at first, I'd say we should work in our normal partnerships and normal roles. Let's see if we can still perform a team resonance-link as we did before. Sound good?"

There were no objections.

Liz and Patty transformed into guns.

Soul became a scythe.

Tsubaki became her chain-sickles.

The three of them stood there a moment.

"Wow," said Maka, her voice morose, "I really do feel a lot weaker."

"I think it might take me awhile to surpass God now," the Assassin agreed, nodding sadly.

Then, he noticed Kid's horror-stricken expression. "Kid, you okay, bro?" he asked

Kid shook his head, as though to clear it. "As powerless as I am now," he said, "you may surpass me sooner than you think."

"Okay," said Maka, "we didn't come here to start a pity-party. Let's do this thing."

"Soul-resonance!" the seven cried, and, as they did, the link formed effortlessly between them.

It didn't look particularly impressive; Excalibur began to feel as though he were missing something.

"You know," mused Kid, "I think I may actually have less strength than when I entered Shibusen."

Maka nodded in solemn agreement. "Well, at least we can still resonate," she said. "Who wants to switch roles?"

"Ooh, me, me!" said Patty.

The weapons returned to their human forms.

This next part, at least, was doable; the three new weapons had spent the better part of a day learning to consistently transform.

Kid became a pistol; so did Liz. Patty caught them both.

"We look so symmetric!" Kid exclaimed happily.

Black-Star's weapon form was an anti-aircraft missile-launcher. His weapon form rested on Tsubaki's shoulder.

Maka turned into a whip and Soul stood, looking for all the world like Indiana Jones' younger brother.

Excalibur hadn't been expecting this new development.

"Wait," he said. "You mean to say that they're _actually_ weapons...?"

The team, however, ignored him, as they were concentrating on their own affairs.

"Now," said Soul, "who wants to create a team resonance-link?"

* * *

With some prompting from the former meisters, Soul, Patty, and Tsubaki managed to both resonate with their weapons and to chain-link that resonance with each other.

Upon seeing this accomplishment, Excalibur slowly applauded them.

The three acting as meisters bowed, smiles on their faces. For the three new weapons, however, this was the final straw.

Their discomfort at resonating for the first time as weapons forgotten, Black-Star, Kid, and Maka returned to their human forms and went over to stare at Excalibur.

"I think he's gone sane," said Maka, eyeing the Holy Sword suspiciously. "It happens to Patty sometimes."

"Patty's always been sane," protested Kid. "She just prefers the insane lifestyle. Maybe that's what's going on here?"

Black-Star was truly weirded out. "Why aren't you singing, hitting us with your cane, or going on about the thousand provisions for becoming your meister?" he asked, completely perplexed.

Excalibur regarded them with flat eyes. "You're weapons, aren't you? Why would you have any interest in partnering with me?"

"..."

"You mean you only act like that around _meisters_?" asked Black-Star in disbelief.

"Of course," replied the Holy Sword.

"..._why_?" asked Black-Star.

"There was once a weapon," said Excalibur, "who was more powerful than any other. Many people wanted to use him for good... but many more wanted to use him for evil. One day, the weapon's brother had an idea: if the meisters cannot resonate with you, they cannot use you. Thus, so long as you are sufficiently annoying, you won't be forced to do evil."

Maka, Kid, and Black-Star exchanged incredulous stares.

Excalibur sighed, seeing that he was failing to get through to them. "You're new to this, so no doubt my actions seem strange... but believe me, things look a great deal different from the weapon side of the meister-weapon partnership."

The three of them looked at Tsubaki, Soul, Liz, and Patty in astonishment.

Soul looked uncomfortable. "He's right..." the Demon Scythe was forced to admit. "But, whatever you learn or whatever anyone else says... well, we're not like that: we are badass, we are gods and monsters, and we are not typical, stereo- or otherwise. Meisters? Weapons? Those are just labels: titles."

"We're partners," said Liz, elbowing Kid in the side.

"That hasn't changed," added Patty, from her arts and crafts corner where she was making paper snowflakes.

"And it never will," finished Tsubaki, giving Black-Star the smile of a co-conspirator.

* * *

On the way back from training, the seven of them ran into Ox, something none of them had looked forward to. Especially not now, as they failed to sneak into the hallowed (and also pink) halls of Shibusen before being spotted by Ford.

"Maka!" the spear meister called out.

Maka grimaced before turning around with a polite smile. "Hello, Ox," she said.

"What's this I hear about you leaving Spartoi?" asked the, now, leader of Shibuen's elite students.

"You mean you haven't heard?" asked Tsubaki.

"No," replied the spear meister, "All they'd say was that you were leaving Spartoi, joining the Commoners' Class, and to ask you ourselves if we wanted to know what was going on." Ox looked truly worried, "Guys, what _is_ going on?"

"Well..." said Maka, "the whole thing is really complicated, but we ran into some Witches unexpectedly on our last mission, and they hit me, Black-Star, and Kid with a spell that completely destroyed our meister abilities and turned us into weapons."

Maka gestured to Soul, Tsubaki, Liz, and Patty. "These four didn't want to find new meisters, so we're sticking together... but now the three of us have to start almost from the beginning, and this time with weapon powers. There's no way we could stay in Spartoi and do that... so off to the Not Class we go," she said with a sigh.

Ox was horrified. "I'm sorry for your loss."

He thought of something. "Still," said Ox, "with Soul as your weapon, you should have a relatively easy time of it."

"With Soul as my meister, you mean?" corrected Maka.

"...what?" asked Ox.

"Ox, we weren't kidding when we said we'd lost our powers. We're not physically powerful enough to even _be_ meisters anymore. If we ever become powerful again, it will be as Death Scythes."

"So, your weapons will be your meisters?" he asked, genuinely confused on the point.

"Eventually," said Kid, "But, for now, our goal remains what it's always been: help Patty, Liz, and Tsubaki become Death Scythes. They're much closer to that goal than we are. It just makes sense"

"How will you do that if none of you are meisters?" he asked.

"I'm a Death Scythe," said Soul. "So I'm now meister for Liz, Patty, and Tsubaki. Once the four of us are all Death Scythes, we'll become meisters to Maka, Kid, and Black-Star. It'll take some effort on our part, but we can do it," Soul said, giving an outline of their game-plan.

"How will you match soul wavelengths with the Thompson sisters and Nakatsukasa?" asked Ox Ford. "You were never partnered with them."

"Chemistry," shrugged Soul.

"Fine, don't tell me," said the spear meister, looking annoyed.

"I'm serious," insisted Soul. "We're those creepy people who think of our team as our family. Any two, probably any three, of us are close enough to match wavelengths by now."

"That's—"

"Weird?" asked Maka. "We know. Think about it like this: we can do it because we're the kind of team that would rather transfer to the Not Class than separate."

Ox raised an eyebrow. "Well, I can't say that I understand," began Ford, "but I also can't deny that I'm impressed."

"It's cool," said Soul-Eater. "See you, Ox,"

"Goodbye," he answered.

* * *

"Well," said Liz, as the seven of them left Ox and entered the cafeteria, "that was all kinds of awkward."

"Perhaps we should do the Awkward Dance to lighten the atmosphere?" suggested Tsubaki.

"Okay," said Black-Star, moving to stand on one foot with his arms outstretched.

"Why aren't you guys dancing?" he asked, staring at them expectantly.

"There's no such thing as an 'awkward dance'," explained Patty.

"What?_ Tsubaki_!" Black-Star fell over in a huff.

"You told him that such a thing existed?" asked Kid.

The Shadow Weapon giggled. "Sorry, Black-Star. It was funny."

Well, Black-Star wasn't deeply offended, but he _was_ moderately annoyed, and so he complained loudly all the way through the line, while they waited for food.

After claiming a table in the mostly empty—but rapidly filling—Not Class Cafeteria, the seven of them noticed that a bubble of space had formed around their group. Few people sat at the tables near theirs. Even fewer sat facing them.

However, after a few minutes of speculation on this, they were distracted by the arrival of a few familiar faces.

"Chrona! Ragnarok!" called out Maka. "Come sit with us!"

At the sound of her name, Chrona flinched so badly that she nearly fell over. After seeing that it was merely Maka, however, she gave a small, sheepish smile. Ragnarok, on the other hand, grinned in recognition and dragged his meister over to where Maka and her team were eating. "Since when have you people eaten in this cafeteria?" he asked.

Maka shrugged. "Since we transferred to the Not Class," she answered, not bothering with the details.

"It's good to see you again," said Chrona quietly, "all of you." She took a seat next to Maka.

Ragnarok sat down opposite his meister.

...at this point, some explanation as to the situation of our favorite black-blooded pair might be in order. Well, at a young age, Chrona's psychopathic mother—the Snake Witch, Medusa—melted Ragnarok, the Screaming Sword, and used his molten, metal flesh to replace poor Chrona's blood.

The end result of her experiments? A meister and a weapon shared a body.

Under Medusa's instruction, the two of them casually committed more atrocities than the average Kishin. And then, during the infiltration of Shibusen—in which Medusa resurrected the Kishin, Asura—Chrona betrayed her mother and joined the Death Weapon Meister Academy. Ragnarok, not having much choice, had tagged along.

For awhile after switching sides, Chrona had been able to heal and experience normal life but, in the long run, it couldn't last. Medusa eventually drew Chrona back to her side, and this is what transpired:

* * *

Two years ago:

"Chrona," said the Snake Witch, pacing the floor of her hideout in a solemn manner, "you've disappointed me. By turning traitor, you lost any goodwill that I might have felt towards you. You simply wanted to save your own hide, didn't you? And my plans meant nothing at all? Well, I suppose you were a good child—you served your purpose, after all—but you're weak. A disappointment like you isn't worthy to be my daughter."

Chrona quivered in terror, speechless.

Ragnarok, for his part, tried to salvage the situation. "It's not really that bad," he said, trying to suck up to the Snake Witch through ingratiation, "As soon as I devour more souls, I'll be more powerful than she is again, Medusa-sama."

"Ah, Ragnarok," said Medusa, her eyes falsely sympathetic. "I"m sorry, but I'm afraid that this time Chrona's just gone too far."

She summoned a vector arrow in one hand and shot it at Chrona. It sank into her flesh with little resistance.

Then, both weapon and meister were screaming. A few painful minutes later, Ragnarok and Chrona were separate beings again, and lying on the floor. Chrona looked as she always did (though she was quickly slipping into unconsciousness), and Ragnarok's true form was that of a humanoid, about the size of a fully-grown man, but who looked more like a demented gothic jester than a human being.

"Don't think I judge you by her actions," said Medusa softly to the Screaming Sword. "You've always been obedient to me. And, as a reward, I give you your body back."

"As for you," she said, turning to her child. "You've outlived your usefulness." Medusa conjured another arrow, and raised her hand to use it for her daughter's decapitation. "Granted, you'd die soon from blood-loss anyway," she added, "but I've always found that a personal killing makes for the best revenge..."

Ragnarok didn't protest in the slightest.

He didn't make any sort of speech about how he cared for Chrona or about how he had to do the right thing. He'd never been one for long speeches or grand gestures.

Instead, simply and calmly, he waited until Medusa had turned her back to him, changed his arm into a blade, and then stabbed her through the heart. And the neck. And just about anywhere else he could think of, turning her into virtual pincushion for his black blood needles.

Then, while the Witch lay writhing and injured on the floor, he'd grabbed an unconscious Chrona, run off to find a hospital where his meister could receive a transfusion, and the rest, as they say, is history. Medusa fell shortly before the Kishin was slaughtered by Maka Albarn and the Death Scythe Soul Eater. Chrona and Ragnarok joined Shibusen (though the Not Class, not the Eat one), and the two of them had been almost as inseparable as they were when they shared a body.

...which serves to explain how Chrona and Ragnarok were able to sit across from each other at the cafeteria's lunch table.

* * *

Present day:

"So," Liz was saying, "What's with the giant void of space around our table? You haven't been spreading nasty rumors again, have you Chrona?" she asked with a smile.

"What?" asked Chrona. "No, of course not!"

"And what do you mean 'again'?" asked Ragnarok, annoyed at the accusation.

"I believe that was the phenomenon known commonly as 'a joke'," explained Kid, helpfully.

"Oh," said Chrona, visibly relaxing, though her eyebrows were still scrunched in confusion.

She and Ragnarok thought about it for a moment and shared a glance. Then, Chrona gave a nervous giggle, and Ragnarok just shrugged.

"Seriously, though," said Black-Star, "why's everyone avoiding us? Is this some sort of hazing that new kids go through?"

"I don't know," said Chrona. "It's always like this for Ragnarok and me. Except for Tsugumi, Anya, and Meme, no one talks to us. And I don't know how to deal with it, so I usually ignore them." The androgynous meister shrugged.

"They're probably just afraid of you," said Maka. "They don't know you, so they don't know how nice you are."

"What?" said Ragnarok, not sure he'd heard correctly.

"How nice Chrona is," corrected Maka. "Sorry, I forgot you're used to using one pronoun for both of you."

"Wait," said Kid, a thought suddenly occurring to him. "You don't think that they're... afraid of us, do you?"

"Why would they be afraid of us?" asked Liz. "We're not—"

"Think about it," said Soul, catching on. "We've got a God of Death," (he pointed to Kid),"the infamous 'Brooklyn Devils'," (the Thompson sisters looked slightly proud), "an Assassin of the Star Clan," (a gesture in Black-Star's direction), "the heir of the Nakatsukasa Weapon Dynasty," (Tsubaki), "a Kishin-killer," (Maka), "and a Death Scythe," (he gestured to himself). "What's not to be afraid of?"

"I don't know," said Tsubaki, "I think maybe you're overestimating our reputations..."

"No, don't do it, Tsugumi! You have so much to live for!" came a cry from across the room.

Upon turning to find the source of the noise, they saw that Tsugumi Harudori had started to approach their table, but had been stopped by a tearful student hanging off of her arm.

"Oh, be quiet, Sally. I'll be fine," the Halberd told one of her excitable classmates before making her way purposefully over to their table.

"Hi, guys," she said to Chrona and Ragnarok, "I see you found Maka and her crew and—hey... is everything all right?" she said, upon seeing the stricken expressions on the seven faces of Team Albarn.

"Oh, them? They'll be fine. They just found out that they're terrifying," Chrona explained softly.

* * *

AN: Right, so Chrona's female in this fic... because I don't know how to deal with gender ambiguity. And she and Ragnarok have separate bodies because I suspect things might have been different between them if Ragnarok had actually had the option to abandon Chrona, in canon... but mostly, I just felt like it.

Yeah, I'm pretty sure the correct English spelling of her name is supposed to be 'Crona', but I always thought of it as being the female version of 'Chronos' (even if he's a guy, 'Crona' sounds feminine to me), so I spell it wrong to satisfy my own personal aesthetics.

Feel free to flame if you see anything you don't like. I won't take offense, and everyone needs to rant every now and then.


	4. Chapter 4

"Maka," said Chrona nervously, "are you sure we're not going to get in trouble for this?"

"For crying out loud, Chrona, it's an abandoned music room! No one cares what we do in here! Besides, DWMA students are encouraged to form clubs."

"Really?" asked Ragnarok. "Then who's our teaching adviser?"

"Oh, look," said Maka quickly, "It's Angela and Mifune. Hi, guys!"

"Hello," said the Chameleon Witch. "Who are you two?" she asked, pointing to Ragnarok and Chrona.

Chrona yelped and hid behind Ragnarok, murmuring, "I don't know how to deal with children..."

But the Screaming Sword, in all his inhuman glory, had decided that he liked this kid. "I'm Ragnarok," he said, "Devourer of souls, harbinger of the apocalypse. This is Chrona, recluse and valedictorian of the Not Class."

"Are you two partners?" asked Mifune.

"Yeah," said Chrona, who didn't mind talking to the calm Samurai so much as she did the excitable child. "Maka said something about forming a club?"

"The Time Wasters Society?" asked Mifune, ignoring Maka's protests that this was, in fact, an 'Edification Society'. "Well, I wouldn't really call it a club. More like an elaborate ruse..."

"Whatever it is, you two should be part of it," Maka said. "Everyone needs social interaction, and if the kids in the Not Class are too afraid of you to approach you, then you're never going to get it."

Kid and Black-Star entered the room next. "Hi, guys," said Angela, upon seeing them. "Black-Star, did you get any souls today?"

"Nah," he said, "We just started training. If we tried to get souls now, we'd die."

"Oh," said Angela. "But you were strong enough to fight Mifune when we first met, and he's nearly as strong as a Death Scythe."

"I wasn't a weapon then," Black-Star sighed.

Then, Blair pranced into the room, still wearing her work-clothes. "Nya! Hello Shinigami-kun!"

"Just kill me now..." muttered Kid.

"You can't kill a Shinigami," Black-Star reminded him.

Kid headwalled.

The Trio of Tsugumi, Meme, and Anya entered next.

"What's this about forming a club?" asked the Halberd.

"Come on in," said Mifune, calmly sharpening one of his swords. "The more the merrier."

They needed no further coaxing, and were soon chatting happily with the main group of them, though things soon degenerated into frivolity.

...which went a long way towards explaining how, by the time Patty, Liz, Tsubaki, and Soul entered the room a half-hour later, Angela had convinced them to play 'Duck, Duck, Goose'.

"Duck," said the Chameleon Witch, tapping Maka on the head.

"Duck," she tapped Anya.

"Duck." Kid.

"Duck." Chrona.

"Goose!" Mifune.

The warrior got up and began to chase Angela around the circle where the rest of them were sitting—though he was by no means putting his full effort into catching his adopted daughter.

Angela was smiling broadly as she reached the empty place Mifune had left in the circle and sat down before the latter could manage to tag her.

The swordsman remained as serious as ever as he took up the place of tapper.

"Duck." Meme.

"Duck." Ragnarok.

"Duck." "Hehe." Angela.

"Duck—"

"Well," said Liz from the doorway, "I can already tell this club's just going to a barrel of fun."

"Goose," said Mifune, tapping Black-Star and zipping around the circle before the distracted Assassin could do much more than stand up.

"Thanks a lot, Liz," Black-Star said, scowling.

"You're welcome," said the elder Thompson sister.

Though, with the arrival of their final members, the game was on hold, if not altogether disbanded.

"Any luck with Kishin-egg hunting?" asked Kid, standing up along with everyone else and moving over to greet his true partners.

Patty shook her head. "Nope," she said, "But we did nearly die!"

"What? Are you all right?" asked Kid, shifting his gaze to Liz, silently asking if it was true. Liz nodded.

"I hate Clowns," complained Soul. "They look just like normal humans, until they start morphing and mutating..."

"Shame they didn't all die with the Kishin," agreed Maka. "You're really alright?"

"We're fine," said Tsubaki. "No serious injuries, we just didn't get any pre-Kishin souls today."

"Not important," said Black-Star. "We're in no hurry."

"Anyway," said Maka. "We're all here, so the meeting can finally get started."

"So, what are we actually gonna do?" asked Ragnarok.

"I don't know," said Chrona. "Take a vote, maybe?"

Ten minutes later:

"Duck."

"Duck."

"Duck."

"Duck."

"Duck."

"Duck."

"Goose!"

* * *

The next day, Maka, Black-Star, and Kid decided to do some training on their own. They used Shibusen's grounds for it, where the Kendo and Karate clubs usually met, but since classes were in session, no one else was there. Black-Star did push ups until he fell over (about ten minutes). Kid tried and repeatedly failed to summon his skateboard, or otherwise manifest his dormant death-god powers. Maka attempted to use soul-perception until her eyes crossed.

Eventually, the three of them sat side by side, exhausted, and wondering why they weren't able to do any of the things that they'd long since mastered.

"And just what are you three doing?" asked an irate voice. The three of them looked up to see the Death Scythe, Justin Law. "Shouldn't you be in class?" he asked.

"We've gotten time off for sympathy," said Kid. "Though, if you haven't heard yet, we'd just as soon keep quiet. It's nice not being pitied."

The Death Scythe shrugged and turned up his music "Whatever."

After another hour of watching the three of them fail at basic training out of the corner of his eye, while running hurdles and sharpening his blades as part of his own training, Justin finally saw the three students do something interesting.

The triad of them were playing rock-paper-scissors. Kid lost and there were then two flashes of light, after which the young Shinigami was holding a whip and had a Sting missile-launcher resting on his shoulder.

"I could have sworn that those two were meisters," said Justin to himself.

Death the Kid walked over to the shooting range and began destroying targets with extreme precision. All of his physical abilities may have been repressed, but Kid still had his hard-won hand-eye coordination. The missile-sized blasts of soul-wavelengths destroyed entire targets, and any clay pigeons that came into contact with the soul-whip disintegrated into nothing.

Then, they achieved soul resonance and the rate of destruction increased, but Death the Kid was soon too exhausted to continue.

"Maka?" he asked.

"Right," came the reply from the Kishin-killer, as her reflection shone in the jewel on the handle of her weapon-form. Kid and Maka flashed with white light, and then Maka Albarn held the missile launcher, as well as a pistol, with which she proceeded to resonate and continue the destruction. She barely lasted twenty minutes before switching out with Black-Star, who used the gun and whip for a full forty-five minutes, before literally collapsing in exhaustion.

"Interesting training style you have there," commented Justin, when he could see that they were, indeed, finished. "You're weapons who train like meisters."

"Up until two weeks ago, we _were_ meisters," said Maka, morosely. "Then, we got hit with a spell of some sort and all our signature skills and abilities vanished..."

"Ah, I wasn't misremembering then," said Justin. "I didn't think Lord Death's son was a weapon. A Shinigami weapon... that has got to be a first," he said.

"Still," he continued, collecting his thoughts, "training like that isn't going to increase your strength. As weapons, your human forms will always be your greatest weakness—although it's not like you can't improve," he added, upon seeing their crestfallen faces. "I even made Death Scythe without a meister. Weapons are quite capable of fighting by ourselves."

"Really?" asked Kid hopefully.

"You'd probably have realized this eventually," said Justin Law, "but weapons must fight in a different manner than you're used to. Meisters always fight in a partnership... except for lunatics like Stein—and they always know there's someone nearby who trusts them absolutely: their weapon. They never fight alone, and so can afford to specialize. But to fight as a weapon, you must be well-rounded and diverse in your talents.

"For example," he said. "Meisters fight in human form. Partnered weapons fight in weapon form. But solo weapons don't have someone to carry us around, so we need to use a hybrid form: partial transformation."

"Oh..." said Maka, in a faraway voice. You could almost see the gears in her mind whirring at the realization that they'd have to learn a new fighting style. For a bookworm such as herself, this was the stuff of both reveries and nightmares.

"Do you know what my true weapon form looks like?" he asked them.

Apparently, the question had been rhetorical, as Justin proceeded to transform without another word.

In a flash of light, there stood before them... a machine that most would call an 'instrument of death' rather than a weapon. It was impossibly large and impractical to carry around.

Then, human Justin was back. "A guillotine," he stated. "A cumbersome instrument, good only for execution. Can you even imagine how hard it was, trying to find a meister to partner with a guillotine?"

"Impossible?" asked Black-Star.

"I wish," said Justin Law, massaging his temples. "The people you wind up with are people this earth would be better off without. But my point is that partial transformation allows you to access the strength of your weapon form while retaining the mobility advantages of your human one." Justin demonstrated by manifesting a blade on his forearm. "Arms are a good choice," he said. "At least for blades. You may find that something else works better for your particular weapon type."

"If we learn this," Maka said, "maybe we could even help our partners in a meister-like fashion, even if we can't be real meisters anymore."

"Never tried it myself," said Law, "but anything's possible, I suppose. If nothing else, you should be able to drag yourselves up to Death Scythe level in a few years."

"We aren't allowed to go soul-hunting without meisters," Kid pointed out.

"If you argue enough, you can get more than you'd expect," said Justin. "It worked for me, and I didn't even have a precedent to reference. Just something to think about."


	5. Chapter 5

That day, there was a good deal to discuss at the meeting of the Edification Society.

For one thing, none of the three former-meisters-now-weapons had human left arms: Maka's was a whip, Black-Star's and Kid's were gun barrels. For another, they were performing soul-resonance. For a third, their group had lasted exactly thirty seconds against Mifune in a sparring match, much longer than three soul-less weapons had any right to expect.

"I'm never going to make fun of Justin Law's skull earphones ever again," announced Maka, returning to full human form and smiling happily at the small display of strength she, Black-Star, and Kid had put on.

"Nice," commented Soul. "Never really talked to the guy, but, if I ever do, I'm definitely going to make an effort to keep on his good side."

"Well, then," said Chrona, who had taken on the role of event-coordinator for the Time-Wasters' Society. "We carried out the vote to have a sparring match between those three and Mifune-dono. What now?"

"Let's have one gigantic fight between everyone," suggested Black-Star the blood-thirsty.

"Oh, please no," said Tsugumi. "Not all of us are Eat Class adrenaline-junkies. How about something more social?"

"We should have a tea party," said Angela.

"Why?" asked Black-Star.

"Because it's fun," she answered.

"I'd like to have a tea party," said Tsubaki.

"Ooh, with little cakes and cookies?" asked Maka.

Chrona looked hopeful.

And thus, estrogen carried the majority and—after food, dishes, and furniture were obtained from Shibusen's fancy cafeteria—they proceeded to sit around and drink diluted caffeine [Or not so diluted, in the case of Black-Star, who didn't know that steeping tea was a temporary thing (Or the case of Ragnarok, who didn't know the meaning of the word 'overdose')].

Soul had managed to worm his way out of sitting with the main group by claiming that every tea party was better with music, and was plinking away awkwardly in the background on the grand piano.

"Wow," said Chrona after a few minutes of small talk. "This is almost... peaceful. I like it."

"We should do this every day," agreed Anya. "It reminds me of home."

"Nya!" agreed Blair, who was in her true form, lapping tea from a saucer.

Behind them, a discordant jumble of notes arose from Soul Eater Evans' head hitting the piano keys.

"Yay!" said Patty. "Headpiano!"

* * *

However, the events of interest didn't end there. Not three minutes later, the door to the third music room was thrown open and a small figure entered: a creature whose appearance was normally heralded with expressions of disgust and annoyance.

But Mifune, Angela, Blair, Chrona and the Trio had never seen this being before.

And the Spectacular Seven knew that he was more than a walking botheration.

Thus, Excalibur's reception was not entirely normal.

"You know," said the Holy Sword, approaching their table. "I'm rather fond of tea."

"Is that so?" Patty said.

"Pull up a chair," said Mifune.

"Don't mind if I do," he said.

And so, Excalibur became a member of the Edification Society, refuge for those made weary by the cold and callous world.

This was altogether a good turn of fortune, as things for Shibusen were about to change, and refuge is an oft-overlooked weapon in the everlasting battle between good and evil.

* * *

For these next events, we turn our attention away from the main halls of Shibusen, and pay a little home-visit to the newest member of the Time Wasters Society

Excalibur, the Holy Sword, lived amidst a light wrapped with darkness. There, meisters would visit him, trying to claim his greatness for their own: always the power-seekers, always the ambitious.

Well, they were easy enough to deal with.

"Fool! My legend begins in the twelfth century!" cried Excalibur, startling the person who'd just pulled his weapon-form from the ground.

"Is that so?" said his latest disturber, dutifully writing the fact down in a black notebook.

"Of course," said Excalibur, morphing into his true form in the center of his cave-island (in the cavern-system where Shibusen's Olympic-size swimming pool had been built), with a flourish, looking to see what meister sought his power this day.

Before him stood a tall, sinister student who was probably from the DWMA. The visitor finished writing something and pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, looking to see what the world-famous weapon would do next.

"I begin each afternoon with a cup of tea," Excalibur began.

"I've heard it's good for the health," commented the student.

"Fool!" Excalibur pointed his cane at his visitor. "Don't interrupt me! As I was saying, coffee is the beverage of choice. Would you like to hear my legend?"

The newcomer nodded, writing distractedly in shorthand.

Three hours later:

"...and that's why you must always brush between meals," concluded Excalibur. "Now, then, if you wish to become my meister, there are 1,000 rules and provisions you must follow." He handed the student a thick stack of paper.

"Hmm," said the guy, flipping though the stack.

"Turn to page 85. # 574 is a particular favorite of mine: the three hour discussion of Latin Literature, conducted by myself, entirely in Portuguese."

"Yes, I see. Well, I shall look these over, and convey my decision to you in no more than one week," said the student. Then, he waded out of sight.

Excalibur, when he was alone, frowned at the spot where the adolescent had disappeared. That was the single longest any meister had listened to him, without snapping, in the past thousand years. And the Holy Sword had elevated the practice of infuriating people to a high art. Why on earth hadn't it worked? Was he losing his touch, perhaps?

* * *

Several Hours later, in Japan:

"Hey, Kyoya. Kyoya! What are you reading?" asked an effeminate blond.

"If you must know, Tamaki, it's a list of things I wouldn't do for any amount of money," answered the student who had visited Excalibur.

"Oh. Hey, guess what I had for breakfast?" asked Tamaki.

"Pancakes?" guessed the dark-haired student, without looking up.

"Of course!" said Tamaki. "I always eat pancakes for breakfast; they're the food of choice for all true gentlemen..."

"Tamaki," said an androgynous girl in a black cloak. "Leave Kyoya alone. Can't you see he's trying to work?"

"Haruhi, daddies and mommies always talk to each other."

"I swear, Suoh. You're the most annoying person I've ever met," said Haruhi, plugging her ears.

"Agreed," said Kyoya Ohtori.


	6. Chapter 6

Later that week, the new weapons on the block ran into a particular form of trouble that they'd never faced before, in the form of two Eat Class students whom they only knew by sight. One was tall and broad, the other short and wiry.

They were weapon and meister, and the two of them seemed to enjoy picking on those they perceived as weak.

"My God, how the mighty have fallen," said small and wiry, standing before their group to block their path through the hallway.

"How about a match?" asked big and broad.

Black-Star, Kid, and Maka, not being stupid enough to severely injure themselves for no reason, backed up hurriedly, shaking their heads.

"Well, too bad," said small and wiry, transforming into a mace.

Before the Eat Class team could attack, however, the three Time Wasters partially transformed.

Maka knocked the weapon away from his meister with her whip-arm, Black-Star shot the weapon further away for good measure, and Kid shot the meister, causing him to stumble.

Then, the three of them ran, inciting derisive laughter from the watching crowd.

Eventually, they found Ragnarok and Chrona, whom they shamelessly hid behind when their pursuers caught up with them. Few in the DWMA had ever seen Team Black Blood fight first-hand. All they knew of the two were their personalities, which weren't altogether threatening, even if Ragnarok did sometimes seem a few knives short of a slaughterhouse.

"Out of the way, Not Class," said big and broad.

Ragnarok just laughed and transformed into a sword.

"Scream Resonance," said Chrona, her expression turning more than a little unhinged.

… and when their ears finally stopped bleeding, the two Eat Class bullies decided to retreat.

"You've saved our lives," said Maka, once the main crowd had dispersed. "We are now your slaves until death."

Chrona laughed at that. The sound was brittle, but it was also genuine.

"Who were those guys?" asked Ragnarok, resuming 'human' form.

"It's kind of sad that we don't know," said Black-Star, "since we definitely recognize them from the Eat Class... but, honestly? I have no idea."

"Well," said Kid, surveying the few remaining students in the hallway, who most certainly weren't laughing _with_ them, "there goes any street-cred we may have earned by defeating a Kishin. It's going to be impossible to recruit new members for the Society after this, isn't it?"

"Ah, who cares?" said Maka, "we've already got all the coolest kids in school."

"... and I do believe we've lost Maka," said Kid, "when she gets back from Cloud Cuckooland, I'll be sure to tell her how humiliated we were in that fight."

* * *

Well, another day, another few souls for the soul-eaters, as the saying goes.

By the next week, the three almost-Death Scythes had successfully captured seven Kishin-egg souls, as the four of them were finally starting to coalesce as a team.

Kid, Black-Star, and Maka had done some more partial-transformation training (without Justin Law as the Death Scythe was on a mission), and were starting to petition Lord Death about going soul-hunting as a trio. Thus far, the answer had been an emphatic and resounding 'No', but they were hopeful about what results persistence might produce.

Thus, relatively normal days for the club members had lead to an altogether ordinary meeting of the Time Wasters' Society.

Anya had invited Marcus Law, Justin Law's younger brother whom she sometimes partnered with, to the meeting in an effort to get him to talk (and as a small way of repaying Death Scythe Law for the favor he'd done Kid, Black-Star, and Maka).

Thus far, Marcus hadn't said a word, and he hadn't removed his oversized headphones, either. No one knew whether he was able to read lips, as his brother could, and so they did their best to include him in the conversation and activities without actually requiring him to talk.

Meme and Tsubaki plied him with tea and they kept conversation sane so as not to scare off the newcomer.

And things continued in predictable fashion, until they were interrupted by a student who'd never participated in club activities before.

The strange student opened the door and looked around, before entering and striding purposefully across the room. Excalibur thought, for a moment, that it was Hero and proceeded to have a sneezing fit. However, all he received in return for his efforts were strange looks from a few of his fellow Time Wasters, for the newcomer wasn't his old meister, even if he did look a good deal like him.

"Hello," said the attractive young man. "My name is Tamaki Suoh."

* * *

"You're not related to Hero, are you?" asked Tsubaki.

Apparently, Excalibur hadn't been the only one to think so.

"Related to who?" asked the student.

"Hero Swordson?" supplied Maka.

"It's entirely possible," said the newcomer with a winning smile, "but I've never heard of the man."

"Student," corrected Kid. "Hero's a student. Are you part of the Not Class?"

"The what class?" asked Tamaki.

"Some call it the Commoners' Class," admitted Meme.

"If he doesn't even know what the Not Class is, then he's probably Eat," said Angela.

"Oh, I'm not a student here," he said, holding up his hands. "I'm just a messenger." He turned to Excalibur and handed him a packet of papers—the same packet the Holy Sword had given to the dark-auraed student a little under a week ago.

Was this Hero look-alike going to become another one of his attempted meisters? Excalibur had seen more than enough of the 'starry-eyed dreamer' profile to know that they were more prone to letting power go to their heads than any other category. He really didn't want to start that cycle again.

"Kyoya Ohtori regrets to inform you that he is unable to fulfill the thousand provisions necessary for partnership with you... and thanks you for your time." Tamaki bowed to Excalibur.

The Holy Sword wasn't sure quite what to say to that. However, he didn't have to say anything, as Tamaki Suoh had already become distracted.

"What a lovely piano," the newcomer said, his eyes sparkling with interest.

"It plays great," contributed Soul. "This is a warriors' school. Not many musicians around, so everything's in pristine condition."

Then, the student drifted over, ran a hand appreciatively over the keys, sat down, began to play, and was soon unresponsive to any of their queries.

"Just leave him," said Soul, eventually. "He's in the zone, and it's useless to try and rouse him before he's out of it."

Well, seeing as the music emanating from the piano was light and pleasant, the seventeen (7 (Spectacular Seven) + 3 (Trio) + 2 (Chrona & Ragnarok) + 2 (Angela & Mifune) + 1 (Excalibur) + 1 (Blair) + 1 (Marcus) = 17) of them, scattered in odd groups around the room, continued their conversations for a few minutes while trying to come to a consensus on what to do next.

Seeing as Angela hadn't had much of a childhood, they usually wound up playing some game she'd missed out on, due to all the people trying to kill her.

Well... Angela was the excuse, but, she wasn't the main reason. As a matter of simple fact, Chrona, Ragnarok, Black-Star, and Meme hadn't really had childhoods either, and the rest of them hadn't had very happy ones. Hence, the nostalgia-appeal.

Today's activity was Connect Four: the obsessed gamer's tic-tac-toe.

They had four boards and a box-full of checkers. During the tournament, the audience and players were equally involved in the activities.

As for the first round of games...

Patty and Black-Star nearly destroyed a table in their intense focus on the match.

When Angela thought she was going to lose, she swept the board off the table and demanded a rematch against Excalibur.

Chrona kept turning her attention away from her game against Tsugumi to reprimand Ragnarok for eating the pieces.

Blair was curled up on Liz's lap, paying no attention to the match between the elder Thompson sister and Marcus Law, who they'd finally gotten to participate in something.

The others offered mockery and commentary and even, occasionally, advice.

In fact, they were so engrossed in their activities that they didn't even notice that Tamaki Suoh had stopped playing until he spoke to Soul.

"What kind of club is this, anyway?" asked the pretty boy.

"We are the Edification Society," said Soul, winking at Maka. "Our goal is to better our social and interpersonal skills through a friendly and supportive environment."

This explanation, of course, was complete garbage... but it was what they'd put on the form submitted to Lord Death, so they'd all memorized it.

Tamaki bought it: hook, line, and sinker. "That's so amazing," he said, eyes shining with tears of admiration. "You know," he said, "the Ouran Alliance could use an organization like this. I wonder..."

"Ouran Alliance?" asked Ragnarok, seeing a pause in the conversation. Tamaki turned to answer him, but stopped at his blatantly non-human appearance.

"You're not a Clown are you?" he asked, curiosity evident in his voice. "You're not human, but you don't fit the typical clown profile either. We have a few in the OA. They hang around with the Coven a lot ..."

"I'm a sentient weapon," Ragnarok said, waving off the explanation as unimportant.

"Really?" asked Tamaki, "I suppose there is some resemblance between you and GLaDOS..." he muttered.

Ragnarok sighed. Getting this guy to stay on topic was like getting a drunk to walk in a straight line. "There's an organization interested in recruiting Excalibur?" pressed the Screaming Sword.

"Well," said Tamaki, "We _were_, but we're rather strapped for resources. We can't afford to cater to a demanding mercenary, even if he is a Holy Sword." Tamaki shrugged.

"You mentioned you're part of an 'Ouran Alliance'," said Mifune, repeating Ragnarok's unanswered question from earlier. "What exactly is the purpose of your organization?"

"Shall I tell you about us?" said Tamaki Suoh, his face becoming solemn. "Only those with less than optimum social-standing and those from oppressed weapon families are unlucky enough to have gained the enmity of the Shinigami of Japan: the Death Emperor. The Ouran Alliance is where meisters who fight for justice, and believe in our cause, band together with weapons who've never known a happy life to uphold the truth that, regardless of ability, we are all people. Just think of us as Japan's bastion for all those who would fight for equality and freedom," he said, finishing his speech with a heavy expression.

"There are Shinigami in Japan?" asked Kid, completely ruining the melancholy mood with his skeptical tone of voice. "This is the first I've heard of it."

"Oh no, it's a different Japan," said Tamaki.

"... what?" asked Kid, severely off-kilter.

"Explanations are unimportant," said Tamaki. "What matters is that if any of you are ever interested in fighting for weapons' rights," he addressed them, "our doors are always open."

With that, he smiled in a manner most princely and left in a shower of rose petals.

… leaving the Society to mull over the absurdity of his visit.

"Darn it," said Excalibur. "Now I miss Hero. Corruptible or not, he was my longest-lasting meister in at least a century..."

"...I have a poem I'd like to show that guy," said Chrona, who'd been a bit frightened by the intensity of his parting smile. "He looks like someone who doesn't spend nearly enough time with Mr. Corner..."

"Well," said Kid, shell-shocked. "That was... strange. How did he get into the DWMA? Scratch that—how did he even _find_ us...?"

"How long has there been an 'Ouran Alliance'?" wondered Maka. "And why don't we know about it?"

"Did he just say that he's allies with _Clowns_?" asked Marcus Law in disbelief.


	7. Chapter 7

AN: Minor Noblesse reference here, for those familiar with the series: Roctis needs to die.

* * *

With the eventual addition of Hero Swordson—and the continued attendance of Marcus Law—membership of the Edification Society now stood at a respectable eighteen people.

This meant that there was much less pressure for each individual member to come every single day, as there were guaranteed to be seven or eight people there, regardless. Thus, the Society had transcended its founders and become self-sufficient. In fact, even Soul had stopped complaining about the constant tea-parties and children's games, of which there were many.

And so, when Liz, Patty, Soul, and Tsubaki decided to take a week to go on a mission to Korea, to collect the final four souls Liz and Patty needed to become Death Scythes, their presence was missed, but not mourned excessively.

* * *

The town was located in the countryside, and not all that different from the place where Black-Star and Tsubaki had defeated the Shadow Weapon's brother. Now, our four heroes hadn't shown up yet, and things were still quiet.

"aaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAH!" Tsubaki's screams grew in volume as the motorcycle she was riding approached their destination. She'd gotten stuck riding Soul's extra motorcycle behind Patty, who may have just found her new favorite pastime.

"Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha!" laughed the younger Thompson sister.

Tires squealing as the motorbike slid sideways to a stop, Patty and Tsubaki arrived in town-square.

They'd been driving so fast that they had to wait five minutes before Soul and Liz showed up.

"Tsubaki, are you all right?" asked Liz, upon seeing the Assassin's Weapon lying on her back and staring up at the sky in horror. She'd fallen off after the motorcycle came to a stop, and was still unable to get up.

"I get to ride with Soul on the way back," was all Tsubaki said before mentally re-braiding her frayed nerves and standing.

Soul and Liz exchanged a glance. Soul was perplexed, Liz sympathetic.

"Anyway," said Tsubaki, "Let's get started with the mission."

"Right," said Soul. He was about to say something else, when a rather large bat landed in front of them, and transformed into a tawny Cat with yellow eyes.

"Well, well, what have we here? Ouran Alliance members?" asked the Cat. "Just what are you doing in Korea? Especially _this_ Korea," he added, smiling unpleasantly.

"We're DWMA," explained Patty. "We're here hunting pre-Kishins."

"Ah, I see. My quarry must be elsewhere," he said, losing the predatory gleam in his eyes and adopting a more polite expression. "Convey the greetings of the Feline Coven to Lord Death, would you?" he said.

"Whose greetings, specifically?" asked Tsubaki.

"Belzenef, Cat of Chiroptera," he said, before resuming his flying form and leaving.

"That—was... strange," said Liz.

"A Magical Cat. I wonder if he knows Blair?" said Patty completely unfazed.

"Probably," said Soul, sighing heavily. "She works for the same people he does, anyway... Well, then," he said, ignoring their curious looks at this new revelation, "Let's go make some Death Scythes!"

* * *

Eventually, their search lead them to where the four-man gang that was their quarry had stopped at an inn. Soul, wielding Tsubaki, and Liz, wielding Patty, kicked down the door to their hotel room and found the quartet of them playing cards.

"Roctis the traitor?" asked Soul in the most badass voice he could manage.

"Attack!" cried the black-haired guy, who perfectly matched the picture they'd been given of their target.

His minions, who were also on Lord Death's list, did so, giving their leader a chance to escape.

Soul sliced through the first lackey to come at him. Tsubaki's blade not only cut through his shiv, but sliced the man in half, killing him instantly.

Liz shot through the other two in rapid succession.

Three red Kishin-eggs floated in the hotel room.

Liz ate one before handing Patty one of the two pouches she kept at her side and leaving her sister's weapon-form on the bed. Then, she transformed herself to work with Soul. The Death Scythe-meister then ran out of the room, leaving Patty Thompson behind.

Soul, after jumping out the window, caught a vanishing glimpse of Roctis, and pursued with all possible speed, pistol and throwing-star in hand.

They followed the fugitive to a lake just outside of the town, where they had found him standing on the water's surface.

"So, you followed me, young soul-eaters," he said. "That was your first mistake. Can't you see? I'm completely... in my element," he said. (And off in the Hall of Ridiculous Deities, the God of Puns rejoiced.)

To demonstrate his point, Roctis raised up a great wave of water and swept them out of sight.

When Soul managed to run back, a moment later, he was soaking wet and, though his teammates would never admit it, he looked rather like a drowned cat.

"Soul Resonance!" he said. Liz and Tsubaki echoed him, and he began shooting soul-bullets at the pre-Kishin before them... said bullets didn't make it through the soul-wavelength-infused-water-shield-thing Rocits had constructed for himself, neither were any of Tsubaki's easily accessible weapon forms effective in damaging him.

"Think you can manage the Enchanted Sword resonance?" asked Liz, hopefully.

"Maybe..." said Soul. "Want to try it, Tsubaki?"

"All right," she said.

"Enchanted Sword!" cried Soul. Tsubaki morphed into said weapon.

Soul stood there for a moment, gauging the power-drain on his wavelength. Suddenly, his expression grew alarmed.

"I don't think—" he began, but that was as far as he got before toppling over.

"Soul!" cried the two girls in concern, resuming human form.

"I wouldn't let my guard down if I were you," Roctis said, sweeping Tsubaki and Patty away and moving to crush Soul.

Before he could finish drawing up a large enough wave, however, he was caught from his blind-side by a soul-bullet from Liz, wielded by a terrified Tsubaki.

"Really?" he said, glancing at the terrified would-be meister. "Is that truly the best you can do?"

Tsubaki drew a shaky breath to make some sort of retort, but was interrupted by the strangest battle cry they'd heard since meeting Excalibur.

"Giiiiiiraaaaaafffe!" cried a voice that had more madness than the average Clown's to it.

...now, it really is unfortunate that that was the last word Roctis ever heard.

You see, he hated giraffes.

...although, he killed enough people in his short reign of terror that, perhaps, his personal preferences weren't worth mourning too long over.

Moving on then, the water-elemental-enemy vanished in what almost looked to be a blast from the long-missed Death-Cannon, produced from the Shinigami-trio team in days of old.

In short, there was a blinding flash of light, Roctis was gone and, as the light faded, they could see, standing there, in all her newly-formed Death Scythe glory, Patty Thompson.

Patty grinned, changed the gun barrel attached to her shoulder back into an arm, and handed the last of the Kishin-eggs to her elder sister. Liz accepted it, gratefully.

After swallowing the last of her ninety-nine souls, Liz retrieved the second of the two Witches souls she, Patty, and Kid had collected, from the second pouch which she had strapped to her waist.

For a moment, she did nothing but hold the thing in her hand, having a hard time believing this was really happening.

"Well," Liz said, "Cheers!"

Then she consumed the Witch's soul.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, the Death Scythe power-rush kicked in. Liz would learn later that several trees had been set on fire from the intensity of the energy, but she saw none of it, as she promptly passed out.

Tsubaki, who was leaning over Liz in concern once the power-rush had died down, was waved off by Patty. "She'll be alright in a minute or two," the younger Thompson said. "But hey, cheer up. It's your turn next, you know. Ready to become a Death Scythe?"

Tsubaki smiled. "_Yes_," she said, relief and resolve blended in her voice.


	8. Chapter 8

The Thompson sisters and their temporary partners, Tsubaki and Soul, were still in very high spirits two days later, when they finally got back to the DWMA.

However, their elation soon became curiosity as they saw very few people on their way to the Third Music Room, and only two of the fairies from Excalibur's caverns, once they entered it.

"Ah," said the one of them, "You must be Team Death Scythe?"

Tsubaki laughed. "Well, almost. We do have three of them. In fact, you're looking at the two newest Death Scythes in Shibusen," she said, gesturing to Patty and Liz.

"Our sincere congratulations," said the other fairy.

"Thanks, but... who are you two?" said Liz.

"Where is everyone?" asked Patty.

"They're at the ceremony held to honor Spartoi for their defeat of the Witches Council. It's mandatory, otherwise they would have stayed here and waited for you. As things are, they promised us booze if we'd stay here in their absence and let you know where they were," said the first fairy.

"Thanks. So, they couldn't have left a note?"

"Probably, they could have," said the second, "but I get the feeling Excalibur was trying to get rid of us for a few hours. We're wasted an awful lot, and I think we might have trashed his cave..."

"You think?"

"We don't actually remember what happened last night," admitted the first.

"Well, we should probably go join the others," Soul said. "Would you two like to come?" he asked, trying to be polite.

"No, thank you," replied the second.

"Suit yourself," said Soul.

* * *

When the four of them snuck into the auditorium, they were pleasantly surprised to find the students of the Time Wasters' Society sitting together, and that they had saved them seats as well.

Shinigami-sama was still giving his speech.

"... and thanks to these young heroes, Shibusen was saved," he finished. "Seriously, guys. Can't thank you enough."

The auditorium burst into applause; Kilik, Fire, Thunder, Ox, Harvar, Kim, and Jacqueline beamed proudly.

The Society joined in, of course, but with mixed emotion. It wasn't so long ago, after all, that the Spectacular Seven had been honored in just such a ceremony for their defeat of the Kishin, Asura.

They were proud of their former teammates, of course, and though they knew better than to acknowledge the slight jealously they were feeling, it was saddening to think that while others had saved the world, they had fallen behind. No longer were they the most powerful team in the school.

It wasn't wrong, exactly, but it was very strange, like the transition from meister to weapon had been for Black-Star, Maka, and Kid, it was something completely new to them.

* * *

Later, even though it was several hours after their normal three o-clock, the Society gathered in the Third Music Room.

Kid was hugging his partners with a broad smile on his face. "I knew you could do it!" he said.

Soul and Tsubaki were the next to be caught in a crushing hug. "Thanks, guys," said Death the Kid.

"No problem, man," said Soul.

"Happy to help," said Tsubaki.

"You know," said Liz, "With this new development, we're really past the danger-zone, deadline-wise."

"What do you mean?" asked Kid.

"We're no longer in danger of being separated," clarified the elder Thompson. "Think about it: we've got three Death Scythes. If nothing else, I can partner with Black-Star and Tsubaki, and Patty can partner with you, Kid. There's no way they can tell us we have to find a new team."

"Excellent," said the Shinigami.

"We'll still expend all effort towards making Tsubaki a Death Scythe, of course... but we no longer have a time limit," concluded Liz.

"Woah," said Black-Star, who didn't usually think more than three minutes ahead, awed by the ability that is reasonable prediction.

"That's nice," agreed Maka.

Soul sighed. "So..." he said, changing the subject, "is it just me, or does anyone else feel like there's something wrong with the way the world works?'

"What do you mean?" asked Tsubaki.

"Well, everyone's for defeating Kishins and the Witches' Council," said Soul Eater, "but it seems to me that what we've doing now, doing our best to remain loyal to each other as a team, is no less right or heroic... except for the fact that everyone's trying to convince us not to do it. I don't understand this."

"It's not always like it was with the Kishin, you know," said Mifune, speaking up. "Usually, doing the right thing doesn't involve violence or power or 'sheer badassery,' as you guys might say. Usually, 'doing the right thing' means, 'making yourself out to look ridiculous in the service of accomplishing something that's not strictly necessary. Or even wise'."

"Kind of depressing," said Tsubaki, frowning, "but it has the ring of truth."

"So, what do we do now?" asked Black-Star, after a moment's contemplation. "This doesn't seem like the kind of thing you realize and then ignore. Where do we go from here?"

"We don't need to ignore it," said Maka, "but it doesn't really change anything, does it? What we're doing maybe isn't the most ambitious thing we could do, career-wise, but it's working, isn't it?"

"So the universe is going to forget us?" said Soul, "I say, let it. By the time it notices us again, we'll be four Death Scythes instead of three."

"Sure," said Patty, "everyone is ignoring us, but they're also not trying to stop us. We can do almost anything we want."

"We are the free," said Meme.

"We are the pitiful," said Tsubaki.

"We are the unreasonable," said Black-Star.

"We are the Time Wasters," said Anya.

"We are the Edification Society, and so shall we continue to be, regardless," said Maka.

For a heartbeat, there was silence.

"So... see you guys tomorrow?" asked Chrona.

"Of course, answered Angela. "Where else would we be?"


	9. Chapter 9

Part Two: Death and Madness

* * *

The next day, Angela had a class play which the Society showed up at, en masse (Black-Star cried at the end), so it wasn't until two days after the triumphant Thompson sisters returned to Shibusen that the Time Wasters were able to hold a proper celebration.

One good thing about attending the DWMA was that the cafeteria sold food most people would consider gourmet, so finding baked goods was simply a matter of making a trip to the cafe.

Blair had taken it upon herself to decorate the place with various floating pumpkins, and was currently giving Angela advice on using magic. Anya, Maka, and Kid were observing, fascination evident in their features.

Meme, Soul, Silver (one of the fairies from the caverns, who was introduced previously), and Patty were stuffing their faces.

Mifune, Excalibur, Marcus Law, Tsubaki, and Liz had formed the 'grown up' table, and were chatting in a corner of the room.

Black-Star, Chrona, Ragnarok, Tsugumi, and Sapphire (the other fairy) were in the middle of the room, testing out one of Kid's theories on resonance.

Hero was swinging Ragnarok's weapon-form around and Chrona nervously held Tsugumi's Halberd.

Sapphire, a fairy with brown eyes and greenish-white hair, frowned in confusion. "Wait..." she slurred in a high-pitched voice, fluttering drunkenly around. "What's happening? You-you're not—partners with them," she said, eyes going in and out of focus as she tried to articulate her question.

Black-Star answered. "We've may not have done much in the two months since we became weapons, but we did learn to match wavelengths with most of the people here. After all the time we've wasted together, it would be kind of pathetic if we couldn't..."

* * *

"So," Marcus was saying to Mifune, across the room, "Do you think there are parallel universes where different versions of ourselves made different choices and live different lives?"

"Define 'different lives'," said Mifune.

"Like... Chrona might be a guy in another universe, or the Kishin could have been defeated right after the siege of Baba Yaga's Castle, or maybe even Maka was born as a weapon," he shrugged. "Things that easily could have happened, but didn't."

Liz thought about it. "Well, I don't know... if they led different lives, can they really be called 'us'? What are we if not the choices we make?"

"If they have the same parents, then they'd be us," said Patty. "If it looks like an Excalibur, acts like an Excalibur, and uses circular logic like an Excalibur, who are they if not Excalibur? ... even if they are maybe evil or something..."

"I take offense to that," remarked the Holy Sword.

* * *

"And what's the deal with the Feline Coven, anyway?" Maka was asking Blair over in their quiet little corner where the Cat was teaching Angela. "Why do Cats need a Coven?"

"Why do Witches need a Coven?" returned Blair, flipping her hair. "Magical beings simply seem fond of them, no particular reason for it."

"Hmm. By the way," said Maka, "do you know someone named Belzenef?"

"Sort of," Blair said. "He's my parole officer."

"_Parole_...?"

"I apologize for nothing," insisted the Cat, before making a face "... except for what I did a year ago."

"What was that?" Maka asked, suspicion evident in her voice.

"Not telling," said Blair, folding her arms.

"Hmm. So... why does Belzenef turn into a bat?" she asked, changing the subject.

"What?" asked Blair, who had been distracted by Black-Star laughing at something from across the room. "Oh, that's because he's the Bat Cat," she told them, shrugging her shoulders. "Witches have an animal transformation, don't they? We're the same."

Maka blinked. "... I thought you said Magical Cats weren't Witches?"

"We're not the _same_," said Blair, "but we're similar. Most people can't tell the difference at first glance. We don't have to worry about the Sway of Magic, because we're all evil... but most of us aren't _very_ evil."

"So, Medusa could turn into a snake," remembered Maka. "And she was the Snake Witch."

"Yeah, and I can be a chameleon," said Angela. "That's why I'm the Chameleon Witch."

"Is Belzenef the 'Bat Witch', then?" asked Maka.

"He's a guy," said Anya. "Guys can't be Witches."

"Yeah they can," said Blair, glancing at the Halberd meister. "There just aren't as many of them.

"Regardless," the Cat continued, looking back to Maka, "Belzenef's not a Witch. He's a Magical Cat."

"But if he were a Witch..." pressed Maka, "he'd be the Bat Witch?"

"I guess you could say that," admitted Blair, after thinking about it for a moment. "Hey, Angela... are you all right?" Blair asked in concern.

The young Chameleon Witch's eyes had gone unfocused.

Maka moved to put a hand on Angela's shoulder.

The small girl shuddered a moment... and the next moment had transformed into a perfect replica of Maka Albarn.

She looked at her hands, and whimpered, before changing back into herself and looking up at Blair in confusion.

"What's happening to me?" asked Angela in a small, horrified voice.

Blair transformed into her true form and nuzzled up against Angela reassuringly. "You're finally starting to develop your powers, kid. Happens to everyone."

"Does it normally happen this young?" asked Mifune in concern. He along with everyone else in the room, had come over to see what was wrong.

"I don't know," said Blair, frowning in concern up at the Samurai from Angela's arms. "For a Cat? Yes, but I have no idea as to whether Witches develop in the same way that we do."

The two fairies were stroking Angela's hair, comfortingly.

...which would have been a good deal more touching if Sapphire hadn't been murmuring, "shiny-shiny-shiny..." to herself.

Silver, at least, was sober, so one out of two wasn't bad.

And Angela did appear to be taking comfort from their actions. Just had to hope that Sapphire wouldn't vomit and distress the Witch further. With a glance to Maka, whose eye she'd managed to catch, Silver eyed Sapphire and raised an eyebrow.

The Kishin-killer caught on immediately and snatched the the fairy silently away from the young Witch with her whip-arm, tugging at Tsubaki's sleeve to indicate that the Shadow Weapon could take the drunken fairy's place if she'd like.

Then, she placed the rather disoriented fairy down on her lap, where Sapphire promptly vomited into Maka's tea.

"Well, I guess we can always go find Kim," said Kid, who was trying to reason out what would make the young Witch feel better. "What do you think, Angela? Feel like talking with Kim and Jacky? They might be able to help."

"Okay," said Angela, who was looking a bit less freaked out, some of her trademark brattishness showing through again, now that the shock had worn off. Chrona knelt by Angela. "My mom didn't get her powers until she was twelve," she said nervously, "But—but she did say that the younger a Witch gets her ability, the more powerful she is. I know it's scary... but this means you'll probably be really special," the black-blooded meister gave an anxious kind of smile that was almost painful to look at, but was probably meant to be reassuring.

Angela was lifted out of her dark mood altogether by Chrona's words, if not her expression. "Really?" she asked, her voice laced with surprise.

"Probably," Ragnarok told the young Witch. The Screaming Sword had decided to take Chrona out of the spotlight before she fainted from anxiety. "I've seen a lot of Witches in my time," he continued, "and they're usually teenagers by the time they're a threat. Whereas you," he smiled conspiratorially. "Well, I wouldn't even have crossed you on the day we met."

Angela smiled nastily, and morphed in to a doppelganger of Ragnarok, briefly, before returning to herself.

The others were surprised, but covered it admirably for Angela's sake.

Then, with expression of congratulations to the young Witch on the onset of her powers, the members of the Time Wasters' Society returned to their previous activities.

Maka, who was sighing over her vomit-tea, looked behind her to see that Kid was biting his own lip in an effort to keep from freaking out and ruining the mood. The Demon Whip, after a moment's thought, realized what it was that had caught the young death-god's interest and chuckled.

"Kid, I think you're good," she said kindly.

"Symmetry!" he said, eyes sparkling and hands clasped together rapturously, "Just think about all the symmetry you could create with powers like those!"

* * *

Later, in the Death Room, clouds scurried about the sky-blue walls while Lord Death and Kim were speaking quietly. Both looked up as Death the Kid entered the room.

"Father?" asked the young Shinigami, announcing his presence.

"Hello, Kid," said Lord Death. "We were just discussing what to do about Angela. Since you'll be running things, one of these days, why not start making decisions now?"

"All right," said Kid. "Hi, Kim," he said, nodding to his former comrade-in-arms.

"Hi, Kid," said the Tanuki Witch. "We've missed you in Spartoi."

"Missed being there," returned Kid.

"Well, then," said the headmaster of Shibusen, once he'd sensed the two students were done with small-talk. "Kim's healing wavelength doesn't seem to be enough to keep Angela from being affected by the Sway of Magic." His shoulders slumped glumly at the admission. "Any ideas on what we can do about this? I'd rather not use the machine unless absolutely necessary..."

"For now, at least," said Kid, "she's still doing fine."

"I think that's good." said Kim, but her expression still bespoke worry.

"You think?" asked Lord Death and Kid.

Kim raised her hands and grimaced. "I never had to deal with the Sway myself: one of the benefits of being the Tanuki Witch, but now it means I have absolutely no idea how to help."

Lord Death nodded. "Have you ever heard of Witches being able to resist the Sway of Magic?" he asked.

"Well, yeah..." said Kim, "but which stories to believe? Before they fall to it, literally every Witch tries everything in their power to avoid it. There're a lot of scams out there..."

Kid and his father exchanged a glance.

"But if I had to pick one," Kim was saying, "I'd go with the idea of forming a Coven. It's said that if multiple Witches band together, they can keep their sanity."

"... but, she's been around you and Blair since she got here," Kid pointed out. "That doesn't seem to have kept her from being affected."

Kim sighed. "Blair's a Cat, and I'm only one Witch. Maybe the fact that I'm immune means I'm harder for her to relate to?" Kim shook her head. "I don't know!" She paused to steady her emotions and took a breath. "But, regardless, finding a Coven for Angela would mean seeking out other Witches. Where would we even start looking?"

"I wonder..." said Kid. "The Ouran Alliance might have sane Witches. Do you know if they do, father?"

"What's the Ouran Alliance?" asked Lord Death, tilting his head to the side.

"I've never heard of them either," said Kim.

Kid sweatdropped.

Then, he regained his composure. "From what I understand," Kid began, "they're a weapon's rights group which opposes a Shinigami known as the 'Death Emperor'," he told the other two.

"... Doesn't ring a bell," said the elder Shinigami. "Are you _sure_ these Witches aren't insane? Seems like they're fighting death-gods who aren't even there."

"Not in the least," admitted Death the Kid. "But it's the only idea I've got right now."

"I'll see if I can find any defectors from the Witches Council. They might have better advice," said Kim before taking her leave.

"In the meantime," Lord Death told his son. "Would you like to assemble a team to go and investigate this 'Ouran Alliance' lead?"

"... all right, father," said Kid, wondering silently whether he was about to open Pandora's box.

* * *

"Hey," said Kid, entering the club room. "Anyone want to go on a mission to Japan?"

"I do!" said Black-Star, immediately knocking over his king on the chessboard where he'd been playing a game with Tsubaki... and losing badly from the looks of the board. "Why?" asked the Assassin.

"Word on the grape vine," explained Kid, "is that forming a 'Coven' can help Witches stay sane against the Sway of Magic. That means we need to gather a few Witches or find an existing Coven... and that reminds me," he turned to Hero, who had been playing poker with Meme, Excalibur, and Ragnarok.

"Do you have a long-lost brother?" Kid asked the meister, with nothing but seriousness in his expression.

Hero thought about it carefully, getting the impression, from the looks the other Society members were giving him, that a great deal rode on his answer. "...I don't think so," he finally answered, standing to join the conversation.

"Okay, then," said Kid. Immediately, all heaviness vanished from the atmosphere in the room. "Well," the Shinigami went on, "before you joined the club, there was this guy who barged into one of our meetings and acted kind of... insane. Like you when you were partners with Excalibur."

Hero winced.

"—put that together with the blond hair and blue eyes," Kid continued, "and a few of us thought we were seeing double."

"What does that have to do with Japan?" asked Anya, who'd been playing a piano piece for two hands with Soul. "Are you going to join Tamaki Suoh's Ouran Alliance or something?"

Kid shook his head. "Do you guys remember who Suoh said the Clowns in his alliance were usually with?"

"... 'the Coven'," said Maka, who'd been in a corner, reading a book. "Oh. You think they might be able to help Angela?"

"That's what I'm hoping, at least," Kid said. "So I'm making a diplomatic mission out of it."

"Count me in," said Hero, "I'd like to see this guy."

"I'll come, too," said Tsubaki, who was putting the chess pieces back in their starting positions.

"I should probably go," admitted Blair. "I'm overdue to talk with Belzenef, anyway, and the Feline Council is on the way."

"Suoh did say that the Ouran Alliance was in a 'different Japan,' whatever that means," said Kid, "so it might be rather difficult to find."

"Oh, I know," said Blair. "I also know how to get there, which isn't at all obvious."

"That will help immensely" said Kid. "Thank you, Blair."

Angela, whom Kid had turned to look at next, frowned. "You're going to visit the annoying guy?"

"Tamaki Suoh, yes."

"I'm staying here," she announced.

"Much as I'm tempted to go," said Mifune. "It's probably best that I remain with Angela."

* * *

AN: So, lots and lots of foreshadowing, without much plot for this chapter.

For anyone concerned with such things, I do believe I'll be adding the Golden Compass trilogy and Gargoyles to the list of mega crossover spoilers for this fic. Still, that's not until the final part (which I'll probably be lazy with and base off of 'the ultimate showdown of ultimate destiny'). Part two has much more Ouran, still lots of Soul Eater, and the moderate spoilers for the video game series, 'Portal'.

If you notice any canon twisting / bending / melting / fusion on my part, it's probably intentional. I do that way too much...

Next chapter probably mid-June, although I reserve the right to be a jerk and take a six-month hiatus if circumstances so demand.


	10. Chapter 10

AN: Avast ye mateys! Thar be Portal spoilers ahead!

* * *

"How much farther?" asked Black-Star, bored out of his skull.

"Their home base is a fortress on an island," Blair said. "It's not that much farther."

Seeing as Kid's skateboard was out of commission, the team of Black-Star, Tsubaki, Hero, and Kid were bumming a ride on one of Blair's flying pumpkins, after the latter had generously offered it to them. Currently, they were flying over an endless stretch of ocean, and had been doing so for the past hour.

"Right," said Blair, a few minutes later, as an island came into sight, indicating that they were nearly at their destination. "I could tell you what's going to happen, but I don't want Black-Star to know—so I'm not telling any of you!"

"Great," muttered Black-Star.

"Oh, she's not that bad," assured Blair, "Just a little homicidal."

"'She'?" asked Tsubaki.

"Not saying another word," said Blair, as the pumpkin landed on the ground in front of a dismal tin shack standing alone in the middle of the island, which, as far as they could tell, was completely deserted.

"It's in here," the Cat said, opening the door and going in.

After exchanging incredulous looks, the four others climbed in after her.

When the door was shut, the bottom of the shed descended. It was some sort of elevator.

As the small platform they were on descended, they flashed past rooms with red glowing lights—which they couldn't make out the sources to—before exiting into a chamber with an important-looking machine hanging from the ceiling. It was a robot with a yellow sensor, which appeared to be watching things on the security monitors.

"Welcome to Aperture Laboratories," said a recorded voice, while the machine ignored them in the background. "If you are here to visit the dimension with all the Cats, please follow the blue line on the floor."

"That's me," said Blair. "Good luck, guys. And, remember—think in portals!"

With that, the purple Cat, who had resumed her true form to save space in the elevator, stalked off, leaving them to stare at the high-tech facility around them.

"First time visitors, please follow the red line," continued the voice. "All new travelers are required to undergo a series of simple tests to obtain trans-dimensional passports."

"I guess that's us," muttered Kid, heading in the indicated direction, Black-Star, Tsubaki, and Hero following along in his wake.

"Stein would love this place," muttered Tsubaki, as they went through an open door.

"First test:" said the voice, as the door slid ominously shut behind them. "A little activity I like to call, 'who can inhale the most neurotoxin?'"

Those were the last words the four of them heard, save for their own shouts of anger, before they all lost consciousness.

* * *

Some time later, Tsubaki awoke with a gasp, and found herself alone in a sterile, white room. Frantically, she sat up and searched around for her comrades.

Not finding them, she whispered, 'soul resonance' hoping to catch a glimpse of their wavelengths resonating with hers. To her immense relief, she felt Black-Star's exuberant soul—close enough to likely be in the same building—but more importantly, healthy and alive. In addition, Kid's orderly wavelength, and Hero's easy-going one shone brightly in her mind. They were too far away to exchange telepathic messages, but her team was still alive; it was just a matter of getting to them.

Looking around, she found herself to be in a windowless cubic chamber.

"All right, I'll admit it—" said the mechanical voice from before. It was robotic, female, and Tsubaki assumed it was either pre-recorded or synthesized. "—I lied about the neurotoxin. In fact, I'm required by law to inform you that Aperture Science no longer uses neurotoxin in any way, shape, or form as part of our testing procedure."

Tsubaki observed her surroundings. She saw a door, up on a higher level and headed towards it, transforming into a throwing-star to hurl herself up to the exit.

Upon arriving there, she approached the door and found it wasn't motion activated. Out of curiosity, she walked over and placed a foot on a nearby button, and saw the door slide open as a result. The moment she removed her weight from the device, however, the round high-tech door slid shut again.

Unfazed by the seeming disadvantage, and with a triumphant smile on her face, Tsubaki went back to the door. Noticing a small button on a pedestal, she pressed it, to see a large metal cube fall down to exactly where she would have been standing had she not moved.

Hefting it experimentally, Tsubaki judged the distance between it and the button, eventually giving up the idea as harder than it needed to be.

Instead, the Shadow Weapon moved to stand on the button, opening the door. She then transformed one of her arms to a chain-sickle and stepped off the button, throwing the blade so that it wedged in the closing door, holding it open enough for her to slip through.

The sound of slow clapping greeted her on the other side. "Congratulations," said the voice. "You used your ninja fighting-techniques to completely miss the point of that last test. Did you not see the Vital Apparatus Vent that was specifically designed for use during experiments? Or the Weighted Storage Cube, which can be employed _without_ causing damage to the Aperture Science Chamber Lock Doors?"

"I don't know your name," said Tsubaki to the voice, "but you're the person who made us think we were going to die of gas-poisoning. And Kid's a death-god. Do you even know how wrong it would be for him to die?"

"A Shinigami? Unlikely," said the voice, responding to her words, and killing the theory that it was pre-recorded. "A death-god wouldn't have been rendered unconscious by the knockout gas. In fact, previous experiments indicate that they don't even need sleep."

"Previous experiments?" asked Tsubaki, frowning in worry. Then she shook her head. "Oh, forget it," she said, deciding it wasn't worth it, and not wanting to explain about Kid's recessed powers. "Don't know why I'm talking to you, anyway," she muttered. "You're the reason I'm mad in the first place. Where are my friends?"

"The other test subjects?" asked the voice. "They're failing. Miserably. I may have to put two of them in an individual test chamber to get any sort of success. I'm sure you're very proud of them."

"Why are you doing this?" asked Tsubaki, unnerved by the sheer amount of passive aggression in the voice. As far as she'd known, Shibusen had never destroyed one of their facilities, or anything of that nature, so why the hostility?

"Because I enjoy it," said the voice, answering her spoken question, and perhaps her thoughts as well. "Four test subjects at once! I'm on silicon cloud-nine right now..."

"What do you want from us?" asked Tsubaki, a hard edge in her tone.

"Just a few simple tests," assured the voice. "Upon successful completion of the test-chamber run, you'll see your comrades and have the option to spend up to fifteen minutes on the live-fire bird shooting gallery."

"Bird shooting?"

"Well, it always makes _me_ feel better, at least." said the voice.

* * *

At this, the lift dropped Tsubaki off at the next test-chamber.

"While you were unconscious," the voice informed her. "I made two add-ons to your to your weapon-forms."

"You did _what_?" cried Tsubaki, horrified and shocked.

"Improved you," said the voice. "Isn't that wonderful?"

"No!" said Tsubaki, bending over as she began to hyperventilate. "What did you do to me!?"

"See if you can access either of the two new forms," coaxed the voice. "I guarantee you won't be disappointed."

Well, Tsubaki, being the gentle soul that she was, had to sit down and cry for a few minutes before doing anything else, such was the feeling of violation she was experiencing at the thought of someone altering her weapon forms, her _self_, without so much as even asking first.

Eventually, however, she was able to calm down enough to realize that her feelings made no difference to the voice, and that if she wanted to see her team again, she'd have to go along with what it said.

And so, tentatively, she searched through her mental arsenal, looking for something that hadn't been there before. Eventually, she found one of them: a pair of elaborate boots, which sat there on the floor, useless without a meister, once she had managed to transform.

"Good job," said the voice, which appeared to enjoy sarcasm, "You're now twenty percent less useful than you were one minute ago. Anything else you'd like to share with the class?"

Tsubaki simply returned to her human form, ignoring the jibe—of which there would probably be many more—and partially transformed, so that her own legs and feet were encased by the shoes which constituted her newest weapon-form.

"Better," conceded the voice. "Those are the long-fall boots. They maintain equilibrium and otherwise prevent injury to the human frame caused by disorientation or gravity. Now try the other one."

Tsubaki got rid of the long-fall boots, to allow for better concentration, and searched for a minute before managing to partially transform this weapon-form on the first try. It was relatively easy, even though this was the first projectile weapon-form she'd ever had.

"And this," said the voice, "is the Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device, labeled 'portal gun' by some of our less-eloquent test-subjects."

"What does it do?" asked Tsubaki, glancing in apprehension at the complicated weapon her arm had become.

"Try shooting at the wall," prompted the voice.

Tsubaki did so, and a glowing blue oval appeared where she'd aimed the device.

"And again, in a different spot," said the voice.

This time, it was an orange oval, but as soon as the two portals were in place, side by side on two walls that met to form a corner, they became... transparent? It was actually a bit difficult to describe what could be seen through them.

Through the oval directly in front of her, Tsubaki could see the wall that was off to her left, as though it was a reflection of a mirror, except for the fact that she wasn't in the image. In the other one, as she approached closer for a better look, she saw an image of herself.

"What is this?" she asked. It wasn't like mirrors, she decided. Something was... off. The closest thing she could compare it to was a TV screen or a live-feed from a video camera. Something that changed in real time, but wasn't as predictable or familiar as a mirror would be.

"Those are a set of paired portals," said the voice. They can be placed onto most flat surfaces. Try going through one of them."

"Will I still be alive after I do?" asked Tsubaki, beginning to suspect that the voice would find her untimely demise hilarious.

"You'd believe me if I said, 'yes'?" asked the voice, a hint of surprise evident in its tone. "You need to use them to get out of this chamber, so it's really only a matter of time."

Tsubaki sighed, squared her shoulders, and took a step closer to the blue portal. Her 'reflection' approached the orange portal as she did so. Cautiously, she stuck a hand through the blue portal before her... and fell over backwards in shock when she saw her own hand reaching out of the orange portal. It was as though her mirror image had suddenly stepped through the looking-glass... and also like she'd been expecting to touch a very clean window, but instead had found the window to be open.

For once, the voice was silent, and Tsubaki slowly repeated her action, even going so far as to grasp her own hand, just to convince herself that the limb was really her own.

Finally, Tsubaki took a breath, to steady her nerves, which were all kinds of shorted-out from staring at herself in the orange portal, and stepped through the blue portal.

...and emerged, completely unharmed, from its orange counterpart.

"I think I can do this," said the Shadow Weapon, manifesting the long-fall boots in addition to the portal-gun arm she was already sporting.

* * *

Eighteen test-chambers later, Tsubaki found herself gassed again and, upon waking, was back in the chamber where she and her friends had first entered the facility.

The central machine, however, rather than ignoring her, turned to face her and spoke: "Your time was slower than the last successful test-subject. However, your homicide rate was much lower. I'm making a mark of it on your record: 'not a sadistic maniac'."

"GLaDOS?" asked Tsubaki, who had learned the AI's name somewhere around the ninth test-chamber.

"Your so-called 'teammates' are still working on their sixth individual test chamber," said GLaDOS, ignoring her surprise, "which I allowed them to test in a group of three."

"That sounds like them," admitted Tsubaki, reluctantly.

"Really?" asked GLaDOS. She turned on a screen so Tsubaki could observe their progress with her own eyes.

Kid was falling helplessly through an endless loop of portals, one of which was on the floor, the other on the ceiling. His portal gun lay fallen on the floor, and the Shinigami was trying to yell at Hero for something.

The sole meister of the group looked nervously from his portal gun to the other areas of the test chamber, before shooting a new orange portal at the wall.

...which Kid flew through, smacking into the opposite wall and sliding slowly to the floor. Black-Star, who seemed to be deliberately ignoring his portal gun, was trying to smash the door open with a Weighted Storage Cube.

Tsubaki facepalmed and shook her head, before realizing something.

"They have mechanical portal-guns." She turned to glare at GLaDOS. "Why did you do that to me, if you have actual portal-guns lying around?"

GLaDOS raised her headpiece, defensively. "No, those are weapons: Blue, Orange, and Moron, my permanently employed test-subjects. Portal-devices cannot be manufactured, they must be living weapons if they are to work at all."

"And you only happened to have three of these weapons in your facility?" Tsubaki narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

A mechanical sigh came through the speakers of the central AI chamber. "No, I have more, I was just feeling particularly merciful today."

Another screen flickered on. It showed a test chamber which was completely empty, save for a lone portal-gun, which vibrated its way uncontrollably about the floor of the room, shooting portals randomly at the walls, all the while muttering brokenly about 'space'.

"Would you rather have used Space Moron?"

Tsubaki's eyes widened. "On second thought," she said, "Having a few new weapon forms is actually very useful."

She turned her attention back to the screen that showed her teammates.

"Any chance you'd consider letting them through without solving it?" asked the weapon.

"No. But if you wish to help them, the intercom's over there," said the AI.

* * *

AN: Right, so there was some plot, probably just not the kind of plot you guys were hoping for.

Um, so crossover logic rarely makes sense, and I'm not saying mine is any different, but I at least wanted to make travel between Ouran and Soul Eater more interesting than 'a magic portal opened up and the characters fell through'. Hence my 'a science portal opened up and that's why everything works' version.

For those of you familiar with the Portal universe, I just couldn't resist the concept of a living weapon portal-gun.

For those of you who've never heard of Portal before, I'm ripping my 'grand central station of alternate universe travel' from a popular video game, so I get no credit for GLaDOS or Aperture Science, or any of the other things that aren't from Ouran or Soul Eater. I get no credit for Ouran or Soul Eater, either, in case anyone hadn't realized...


	11. Chapter 11

AN: So, you can probably tell by now that I use writing as a form of procrastination...

* * *

One painful hour later, the entire team was back at the Central AI chamber.

Confetti dropped down on the three members of the team.

"Well," said the AI, "I suppose you're at least more committed to testing than Blue and Orange."

The portal-guns and long-fall boots which Hero and Black-Star were using flashed angrily and transformed into two robots... who were white with orange and blue highlights. The two of them high-fived each other triumphantly.

"And even a rock is more committed to testing than the Moron."

Kid's portal-gun and boots flashed and a blue sphere appeared on a ceiling-mounted rail. "Lovely working with you all," he said, coldly ignoring GLaDOS and sliding out of the room on his management rail.

Black-Star watched Wheatley—who was not, in fact, named Moron—leave, before catching sight of his partner.

"Tsubaki!" yelled Black-Star, running to embrace her.

"Out of four test subjects," said GLaDOS, "only number fifteen, Tsubaki Nakatsukasa, was able to complete the individual testing course. Test subject fifteen, you are now cleared for interdimensional travel."

"Oh," she said. "We were hoping to visit the Ouran Alliance? Blair told us this is where they were."

"This is where you need to go to find them," admitted the AI, "but they are not here. They're from the dimension with all the evil Shinigami. Follow the green line on the floor."

The four of them, minus Atlas and P-Body—the ones GLaDOS had called 'Blue' and 'Orange'—made their way down a new hallway.

"Out of curiosity," said Tsubaki, while they were walking, "Do you have a derisive nickname for our dimension?"

"The Death Scythe Dimension," replied GLaDOS. "Now, if you'll notice the set of panels here?" said Aperture's controller, moving the nearby security cameras to focus on two loose pieces of test-chamber wall tiling.

"Yes?" asked Tsubaki, wondering what they were for.

"Place a portal on this block," instructed GLaDOS.

Tsubaki did so.

Then, the piece of tiling vanished.

Characteristically, GLaDOS offered no explanation, but merely continued talking. "Now, place one here," she said.

Tsubaki placed a blue portal on the second piece of tiling to match the orange one she'd shot at the, now, vanished panel.

Through the blue oval, they found themselves looking at two people, who were guarding a huge fortress, and aiming weapons defensively at them. Tsubaki stepped through the portal, and gestured for the others to follow.

Black-Star smacked straight into the portal, as though it were a wall.

"For the purposes of interdimensional travel, the portal is only attuned to the energy-signature of the portal-maker: in this case, test subject number fifteen," GLaDOS explained helpfully.

Stopping short Tsubaki reached back through the portal and grasped Black-Star's hand. "Soul-resonance," they recited, and then Black-Star stepped through, easily as breathing. If GLaDOS was a bit miffed about this, she didn't say anything.

They then reached their hands back through the portal and helped Hero and Kid through in the same manner.

When she'd turned back to help the others, Tsubaki could see that the portal they had stepped through was one of perhaps a dozen others. She wondered briefly where those other gateways went.

Then, they turned to the guards, who hadn't said a word since they appeared.

"Who are you?" one of the masked sentries asked.

"We heard there are Witches able to resist the Sway of Magic in your alliance," explained Kid, "If so, we wish to employ them for some consulting work, perhaps another job. Is there a good way to get in touch with them?"

The other sentry put a hand to his ear, listening to something over his radio.

"Just got orders from the Shadow King," said the second guard. "He said you're clear to enter the fortress and look around as you like... Shinigami-san," he said this last part with a bit of wariness.

"Thank you." said Death the Kid. "How did you know...?"

"There isn't much that the boss doesn't know," replied the first sentry, guardedly (Hehe. I can neither confirm nor deny that I'm being paid for product-placement by the fictional god of puns).

"Shadow-King..." muttered Kid, completely unaffected by the narrator's tangent. "Isn't that the guy the Ouran Alliance is fighting?

The first guard raised his eyebrows in surprise. "The Death Emperor? No, they're completely different people."

"Is this 'Shadow-King' a Shinigami as well?" Black-Star wanted to know.

The second guard appeared to shudder at the thought. "Ohtori? No, he's a weapon. Most of us are."

"Kyoya Ohtori?" asked Tsubaki.

"You've heard of him?" asked the guard, clearly pleased.

"Once or twice," said the weapon noncommittally.

"By the way," the first guard asked, turning to Hero. "Are you related to Tamaki Suoh?"

"No," said Hero.

With that, the four of them were waved through the gates and entered the headquarters of the Ouran Alliance. Though the equipment was all modern, Tsubaki thought it rather resembled a medieval fortress. As far as they could tell, more of the island was inside the wall than outside of it.

The people inside the fortress were mainly female and largely shy. Most of them seemed to be avoiding eye contact with the quartet. Though, they soon found out that there was a small, but vocal, minority who had no social insecurities whatsoever.

* * *

After ten or twelve people had hailed him as, 'Tamaki', Hero had started to develop both a nervous edge and a short temper, since about half of them had been glomping fangirls.

The four DWMA students had subsequently agreed that they would avoid asking about Tamaki Suoh at moderate cost.

"I swear. If one more person calls me 'Tamaki', I'm going to shoot myself," Hero muttered, brushing the dust off his clothes from the last time a girl had tackled him to the ground.

"Hey, Tamaki!" said a high voice from behind them.

Hero's shoulders tensed. "Kid?" he asked.

The Shinigami sighed. "I don't approve of this," Kid said, but he did transform. His weapon form was caught by Hero.

...who brought the gun to his own temple and fired, falling gratefully into unconsciousness.

"Tama-chan—wait, that's not Tamaki," said a blond boy, glancing from the guy on the floor up to his own tall companion. "Who're you guys?"

Kid returned to his human form. "I am known as 'Kid'," he said. "This is Black-Star, and Tsubaki. The unfortunate person lying on the ground is Hero. We are from the DWMA. You might know our home as the 'Death Scythe' Dimension," he added, upon seeing the blank looks on their faces.

"Have you come to join the Ouran Alliance?" asked the small boy, who still had no idea what was going on.

"No," said Kid quickly, "we're merely looking to buy information. I've heard you count Witches amongst your ranks?"

The blond's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Where did you hear that? It's supposed to be a secret."

"I have my sources," said Kid, sweatdropping at the fact that Tamaki Suoh had so easily given up privileged information. "May we speak with them?"

"If you wish it, then certainly," said a voice from behind them. It was a boy about their own age with black-hair and glasses.

"Hi, Kyo-chan," said the small blond. The tall silent one nodded in greetings.

"'Kyoya Ohtori?'" mouthed Tsubaki to Black-Star, who shrugged.

"I must say," said the newcomer, "it's an honor to have a Shinigami visit our humble home."

"Shinigami?" asked the short boy, stepping back in alarm, "But—Kyo-chan, he's a weapon! We saw him transform! Are you sure...?"

"Quite sure, Hani." He turned to them. "I am Kyoya Ohtori—" he said.

"Knew it," muttered Tsubaki.

"—nominal leader of the Ouran Alliance. These are 'Hani' and 'Mori', two of our Death Scythes. How may I help you?"

"We were looking to talk with some Witches," repeated Kid, for what seemed like the 'nth' time, "perhaps buy information on resisting the Sway of Magic?"

"Ah, yes. Shibusen gives shelter to one Angela Leon, does it not? My, my, how young to be going through the Sway." He made note of something in his notebook. "She'll make a powerful Witch indeed... right this way."

He walked off. They followed, Hero's unconscious body supported between Kid and Black-Star.

After walking down a few corridors and up a flight of stairs, their guide, Ohtori, knocked on one of the doors.

It was answered by a guy in a black cloak who exuded a blacker aura.

"Good afternoon, Ohtori," said the guy, glancing at the company. "Another healing then?" he said, upon seeing the unconscious Hero.

"Ah, no. These people trying to care for a young Witch solely on the advice of a Tanuki and a Cat," explained the bespectacled adolescent.

"I can see why they'd want help," said the person whom they were almost certain was a Witch... but was somehow also a guy. "I am Nekozawa, Umehito. What are you asking for, specifically?" asked Nekozawa, looking to the newcomers for the answer.

"We don't know what we're doing," admitted Kid. "None of our magicians have any experience resisting the Sway of Magic, so we just don't know what it is Angela needs,"

"So you thought to consult with us," Nekozawa said. "Wise choice."

"We're willing to offer you compensation..." Kid began.

"Perhaps," said the cloaked individual. "First, we would need to meet this young Witch, assess the situation, before making any sort of decision."

"That seems reasonable, thank you. I'll make arrangements with my father."

With that, they said their goodbyes and followed Kyoya Ohtori back down the corridor.

"Well," said Tsubaki, after they were some ways away from Nekozawa's door. "I suppose he seemed... sane."

"By whose standards?" asked Kyoya Ohtori, raising an eyebrow.

"You're probably unfamiliar with our universe," said Kid. "But have you ever heard of a man by the name of Stein? Anyone who possesses more of a grasp on reality than he does is sane to our way of thinking. "

* * *

For a few minutes, there was silence as they made their way back down to the first floor.

Just when they were starting to think about leaving, however, they found Ohtori had something else to say to them.

"One more thing," said Kyoya. "Are you, by any chance the DWMA students who inspired Tamaki to form a social club?"

"God, I hope not..." muttered Tsubaki.

Black-Star nodded in agreement with his partner.

"... well, we did receive a visit from Mr. Suoh nearly a month ago," admitted Kid. "Though what he could have gotten from it is beyond us. In all but name, we're a support-group for those disenfranchised in some manner by the weapon-meister system. How he bought that we were an organization of optimism, I'll never know."

"Well, be it intentional or otherwise, you inspired Tamaki Suoh to create something which has become the bane of my existence," said Kyoya Ohtori, "and it is your duty to at least look upon what has resulted from your indiscretion."

"Sounds like he's talking about a bastard child," muttered Black-Star.

Tsubaki giggled. Then, she thought of something. "Should we wake up Hero for this?"

"He'd hate us for it," said Black-Star. "He wasn't even part of the club when Suoh visited."

"But he is our antagonist's look-alike," said Kid. "He should at least be prepared for what that might mean. I have a feeling glomping fangirls are only the beginning." Kid and Black-Star began to lay Hero down on the floor.

"I suppose in the long-run, this is kindest," admitted Tsubaki, pillowing Hero's head on her lap and placing a hand on his forehead.

Black-Star and Kid followed suit.

"Soul Resonance," they intoned.

_Hero?_ thought Black-Star. _You'll probably want to see this, man..._

"...what is it?" asked Hero, coming to. "Are we back at Shibusen?"

"..." There was silence as Hero Swordson took in the guilty faces of his teammates.

"You've horribly betrayed me, haven't you?" he asked.

"Sorry, Hero. We thought this was wisest," said Tsubaki.

"This is Kyoya Ohtori," introduced Kid.

"Charmed, I'm sure," said Ohtori. "Whenever you're ready?"

Hero was hauled to his feet by Kid.

"This way," said Ohtori.

* * *

When they opened the door, a shower of rose petals greeted them.

Kid and his companions stood there in shock.

"Welcome!" said a group of what appeared to be some of the oh-so-rare extroverts of the Ouran Alliance.

And right smack in the center of them was Tamaki Suoh.

Hani and Mori were off to his left. A pair of red-headed twins were on his right, as was an attractive and gentle person of somewhat ambiguous gender, who wore an ominous black cloak (similar to the one they'd seen on the Witch they'd just talked to).

"Kid?" asked Hero hopefully.

"No," replied the Shinigami, solemnly. "Some things in this world, not even death can save you from."

Then, to their hosts, Kid gave a cold glare. "You are a sick, twisted, sick, twisted, twisted, sick man, Tamaki Suoh."

The blond's face suddenly lit up in recognition.

"Oh, it's all my old friends!" he said, smiling radiantly.

Black-Star gagged.

"Tamaki, I've found your long-lost twin," said Kyoya Ohtori, gesturing to Hero.

"Mon frère!" said the excitable blond, grabbing onto the meister and embracing him without a second thought.

"You are an evil person," commented Tsubaki to Ohtori, whose only response was a dark smirk.

"Ohtori was joking. There is no way in Hell that we're related!" protested Hero.

Tamaki ignored him.

"These are the people who inspired me to form the club!" Tamaki told the other people in the room, one hand around his 'brother's' shoulders.

"I'd like to shake your hand," said one of the girls in the room.

"Thank you so much!" said another.

"Welcome to our Friendship Society!" said Suoh, who seemed to be the source of all the rose petals swirling around the room.

Kid didn't even want to think about how that worked.

"... don't you mean Host Club?" asked Tsubaki, swatting away some off the offending plant-matter. "You've got more than enough eye-candy to pull it off."

Black-Star facepalmed. "Tsubaki..."

"Sorry," she said, "couldn't resist. Still can't, in fact. 'Host Club' is the only name I'll ever use for this place."

Meanwhile, Tamaki was still making introductions, dragging an unwilling Hero in his wake.

"Hani and Mori, you already know."

"Hi!" said Hani.

"Haruhi there belongs to Nekozawa's coven."

They received a warm smile from the individual in question.

"Good to meet you," she said.

"Hi, I'm Hikaru, and this is my brother Kaoru." said one of the pair of twins, who were converging on Kid, since they suspected he might make an interesting toy.

"Want to play a game?" asked the one on the left.

"In a Host Club?" asked Kid, who thought Tsubaki's assessment appropriate. "I'm afraid I'll lose something I'll never be able to get back."

"Nothing like that—" said the one on the right.

"—Just a little guessing game—" continued the one on the left.

"—'The Which One is Hikaru' game," said the right twin. "If you win, we'll be your slaves for a day. If we win, vice versa."

"No, thank you." Kid shook his head.

"Kid, they're asking you to tell the difference between left and right," said Black-Star who was now directly to his left, apparently playing the role of shoulder-devil. "There's no way you'll lose. I say go for it."

"But I don't want to be that guy who plays games at a place like this!" protested Kid. "I don't. I just don't. For one thing, Patty would _never_ let me live it down..."

"That's not the point. Do it for Shibusen's pride!" said Tsubaki, who had appeared at his other side, presumably as his shoulder-angel, though the advice she dispensed wasn't any different from her counterpart's. "Are you really going to let them think you're anything less than the deity of all things mirrored and balanced that you are?"

"Wait, I thought he was a death-god?" said Hani, confused.

All conversation in the room stopped.

"You're a Shinigami?" asked Tamaki Suoh, who had recoiled slightly at the revelation, and had a mixed expression of disgust and shock on his face. Hero took the opportunity to escape from Suoh's grasp and returned to his teammates. This solved one problem; however, the other guests were still staring at them in clear emotional turmoil.

At that moment, the same thought occurred to all four of the Shibusen students, causing them to soul-resonate unintentionally.

_He's afraid of me_, thought Kid to himself. _I'd very much like to encourage that fear... but we are diplomats, I suppose._

The other three heard him and Tsubaki answered.

_Too bad,_ she thought in return. _Still, I think I can diffuse the situation._

"Technically, he's a Shinigami," agreed the Shadow Weapon smiling at Kid. "But, honestly? He's more like a symmetry god who just happens to have some death-related powers."

"...fine," Kid said, pretending that the humans in the room weren't staring at him in horror. "I'll do it," he told Black-Star. "But, I'm telling you, it's just a stupid contest."

Then, to the twins, who didn't appear intimidated in the least: "For reference's sake, you said you're Hikaru?" he asked, pointing to the twin on the left.

"That's right," they told him.

Kid turned his back.

"Do your worst," he told them.

The two of them exchanged a few articles of clothing, covered their hair with hats, spun themselves around a few times, and then spoke in unison. "So... which one is Hikaru?"

Kid turned around and barely even glanced at them before proclaiming, "Still Hikaru," pointing at the twin on the left. "Still Kaoru," he gestured to the twin on the right.

"Wrong!" said the twins, expecting to see embarrassment in the newcomer's face.

Instead, they were surprised to see the guy's eyes narrow suspiciously. "Well, now I know what to expect from a place like this. Don't know why I thought things would have any honesty to them. By the way... I'm not being your slave," he said.

The twins made to retort, but stopped when the other three Shibusen students burst out laughing. Tsubaki had doubled over with tears streaming from her eyes. Hero was pounding the wall. Black-Star had his head thrown back and was belly-laughing.

"What's so funny?" they asked.

"This is a fake Host Club," gasped Tsubaki, who seemed to be having trouble breathing, "and you're fake hosts," she said, "and you feel the need to cheat on your fake punishment-games! My god, it's just too much...!"

"How would you know if we were cheating?" asked the twins. "You can't tell us apart. No one can, except for Haruhi."

Tsubaki drew herself up, "I may not be able to, myself," she said, "But the day Kid fails a symmetry-test is the day I ditch all my classes, buy a gallon of ice cream and eat the whole thing, while watching the sappiest romance I can find. Because that day will be the apocalypse, and we'll all be hours away from a painful and fiery death." she stated, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Well..." said the Witch, Haruhi, after a moment. "Shinigami _are_ prone to OCD," she said. "If attention to detail is part of his obsession, then it might be possible that he could tell you apart."

"So," she said, turning to Kid. "How exactly did you manage it? I do it by their actions, but you've barely been here five minutes, so you couldn't know their personalities yet."

Kid shrugged. "They look different."

"They look exactly the same," said Haruhi, folding her arms.

"They make different expressions," Kid said, trying to explain his reasoning in a way a normal person could understand.

"Not to human or to Witch eyes," said Haruhi.

"Well... it's hard to explain," said Kid, making a face, "but, after you realize that symmetry isn't the standard for beauty and goodness, the ability to detect asymmetry quintuples. At least. When I figured out that things didn't have to be symmetrical... I was better able to see that _nothing_ is actually symmetric, if you look closely enough." He shook his head. "Especially not people. Especially not _two different people_... Now, if you'll excuse us," he said to Kyoya Ohtori, "there are matters about which I must speak to my father."

The Ouran Alliance Leader, who had been taking notes during the entire encounter, looked up. "It was good to have met you, students of Shibusen."

* * *

A few minutes later, the four of them were back before the portal they'd taken from Aperture.

"You really want to gush about how symmetric those two are, don't you?" said Tsubaki, upon seeing Kid's somewhat constipated expression.

The Shinigami's eyes glowed with excitement as he realized that someone was willing to listen to his ranting.

"Oh my gosh, it's been years since I've seen such perfect chirality!"

* * *

AN: been waiting forever to get to this chapter. Now things finally start to get interesting.

Aperture Science isn't going away, by the way, but I am trying to make it fit with the Soul Eater universe. So GLaDOS is a weapon, not just an AI (Artificial Intelligence). For now, I'm thinking Chell is out in the wide world having her own adventures and am probably not going to bring her into the story.

Also, one of the lines was stolen from Douglas Rees' "Vampire High." Namely, "You dumb, stupid, dumb, stupid, stupid, dumb punks." Love that book.


	12. Chapter 12

"You went where?" asked Liz, her eyes widening in surprise.

"An alternate universe... apparently," said Death the Kid.

"Those really exist?" Liz was skeptical.

"Well, I'm not sure," said Kid, "It could be an elaborate ruse, of course, but current evidence weights towards 'yes'."

"Are there ghosts there?" Liz wanted to know.

"I don't know," Kid replied.

"Hmm," said Liz.

"Well, I should probably go report to father," said Kid with a sigh.

Mifune looked up from polishing his swords, which were all laid out side by side on a cloth. "You came here before going to Lord Death?"

Kid nodded and frowned. "I need some serious mental preparation before telling father something like this. There's a dimension where the Shinigami are all evil... Blair's from a dimension with insane Cats... and I might not even get around to portals..."

Maka patted his shoulder in sympathy. "We'll save some food for you, if you miss dinner," she told him, trying to make him feel better.

"Don't forget the fact that you invited Witches to visit Shibusen," reminded Black-Star, trying to do the opposite.

"Great," said the Shinigami, "I'd almost managed to forget about that one."

Angela looked at the Assassin. "So, you found other Witches? Ones who weren't insane?" she asked.

Kid chose that point to make his exit.

Black-Star scratched his head. "Well... they're kind of creepy, but they seem sane."

"Creepy how?" asked Mifune, concerned about the kind of people who might soon be helping Angela.

Tsubaki shrugged. "We only saw two of them, but they were both wearing black cloaks. One of them was a guy, and he had the most unnerving voice I've ever heard. The other... honestly, I couldn't tell whether they were a guy or a girl."

"The one in that ridiculous club was a girl," said Black-Star. "Someone used the pronoun 'her'."

"Which Witches were they?" asked Angela.

"Hehe. 'Which Witches...'" snickered Black-Star.

Angela kicked Black-Star in the shin for that (though that just went to show how much she'd warmed up to him, as she no longer kicked him in the crotch, unless he made her extremely angry).

"You mean which animals were they?" Hero asked the young Witch.

"I'd like to know, as well," remarked Ragnarok.

Hero shrugged. "Honestly? We didn't ask. We were too busy being freaked out."

"Why?" asked Anya.

"The first time," said Tsubaki, "we were in shock because he was male. The second, we were taken aback by Tamaki Suoh."

Chrona's eyes narrowed. "Mr. Sunshine and Rose Petals?" she asked.

Black-Star nodded. "That's the guy."

"What about him?" asked Tsugumi.

Tsubaki continued with her explanation: "Apparently, our Society made quite the impression on him, and it inspired him to form a Host Club."

Black-Star sighed. "Tsubaki, it's not—"

"Fine, fine," said the Shadow Weapon. "He calls it a 'Friendship Society', in keeping with his inspiration... but all of his 'friends' are very hot guys. Well, except for the Witch, I guess. If she were a guy, she'd be pretty hot, though..."

"Tsubaki, why do you say these things out loud?" Black-Star asked his partner in exasperation.

"So, you don't know what type of Witches they are?" Excalibur asked, keeping the conversation on track for once.

Tsubaki shrugged. "Not the slightest clue," she answered.

* * *

Well, there were four of them, all dressed in black.

Three were adolescents, one was a child.

And, as they stood in Shibusen's entryway, next to a panel with a glowing blue portal attached to it, everyone who walked by was staring.

It was Kim Deihl who met them first.

In retrospect, it might have been better to inform Kim that some of the visiting Witches were guys.

As was said before, there were four of them, all in black. One looked as though he never wore anything else. He had his hood up, and wore a malicious grin.

One had long, red hair, but had one of the most masculine faces the Tanuki Witch had ever seen. She sincerely hoped that one was a guy.

The third was short, brown-haired, and androgynous.

The last was a young blonde girl who couldn't have been older than six or seven.

"You're the Witches from the Ouran Alliance?" Kim asked.

"Yes," said the darkest one. "Umehito Nekozawa at your service, Sister." He nodded at Kim.

"But, three of you are_ guys_," she said.

"And...?" asked the short, brown-haired one.

"Guys can't be Witches," Kim said, matter of factly.

"Maybe in this universe," said the androgynous one (who was also the brown-haired one), "but not where we come from."

Jacqueline shook her head. "This is just too weird."

"We were looking for one 'Angela Leon?'" asked the red-haired one. His voice was nearly as scary as his face, and both Kim and Jacqueline froze a moment, in shock.

"Right," said the Lantern, after a moment. "She's at school right now. Should be out in a half hour. I'll see if I can find one of her friends to wait with you until then," said Jacqueline.

"I'll take you to see Lord Death," said Kim. "He usually meets with visitors."

At this, the visitors looked rather nervous.

"'Lord Death' said Nekozawa, nervously. "I don't know whether it's a common practice in the Death Scythe Dimension, but in our home, Shinigami do not have names. Instead, they take titles."

"Oh, it's the same here," said Kim, unconcerned. "Lord Death is our Headmaster; Death the Kid is his son and heir."

"Headmaster? A Shinigami?" asked Nekozawa.

"Yes... oh, I see what happened here," said Kim. "You come from the world where Shinigami are evil, right?"

"There are worlds where they aren't?" asked the little blonde girl.

"Right, got to start somewhere," she said. "Look, Lord Death and Kid are some of the best people you'll ever meet. Kid's saved my life a few times, and he'll be a great head of the DWMA someday. Lord Death is a hero. He's dedicated his existence to protecting people."

"A Shinigami," said the redhead in disbelief, sharing a glance with the the brown-haired Witch next to him.

"A Shinigami," confirmed Kim. "Whatever they're like where you're from... here, they're trustworthy."

"Well, then." said Nekozawa. "Let us meet this 'Lord Death'."

* * *

It was hard to remember the last time things had been so awkward in the Death Room.

Actually, it wasn't—but no one really wanted to think about the pumpkin-panties incident.

Regardless, the atmosphere was very uncomfortable.

"Hello, hello," said Lord Death to the four Witches. "You must be the people Kid met last week."

"Hello. I am Umehito Nekozawa, leader of Coven Nekozawa, member of the Ouran Alliance," said Nekozawa, taking in the ridiculous skull mask, the high voice, and the cartoonish landscape that was the domain of this so-called 'death-god'.

"I'm Haruhi Fujioka," said the brunette (though Kim still thought of her as 'brown-haired).

"Ritsu Kasanoda," said the redheaded thug.

"Kirimi Nekozawa," said the youngest member.

"Are you two siblings, by any chance?" asked Lord Death, looking between the bright and cheerful blonde and the dark and somber adolescent.

Nekozawa nodded. "These things tend to run in families," he said. "Isn't that right, Haruhi?"

"Ugh," said the Witch in question.

"Her father's the Peacock Witch," explained Kasanoda, upon seeing Lord Death's curious 'expression' (it really was amazing, how much emotion he could convey from behind a mask...).

"Is that bad?" the Shinigami wanted to know.

"No," said Kirimi, "but since her dad's magical, it lets him be twice as much of an overprotective worrywart as he'd be able to be otherwise."

"Ah, I'm familiar with the situation," said Lord Death, feeling a brief pang of sadness that Spirit was playing hooky from his job with those two Witches from Chupa Cabra (they'd considered contacting those two to help Angela, but they really didn't seem to be the best role-models).

"Really?" asked Nekozawa.

"Hmm..." said Lord Death, not wanting to get started on how obsessed with his daughter his Death Scythe partner could be. Instead, he made an observation.

"Pardon me for saying so, but you seem remarkably sane for Witches."

"Well, the Sway certainly presents an obstacle, but by no means is it an insurmountable one," said Nekozawa.

"I'll take your word for it," said Lord Death. "At any rate, you seem nice enough not to go on rampage. Kim, would you mind taking these guys to go see Mifune?"

"All right," she said.

* * *

"How is the young Witch?" asked Nekozawa as they walked.

"Angela? She's been as well as she can be, I suppose," said Kim, "considering the situation. She had a few losses of control last week: periods of time where she couldn't control her power, but none this week. We're hoping that's a good sign."

They arrived outside a door. "This is the third music room. Angela, Kid, and some of the other students hang out here after school."

They opened the door, and saw a massive model kit spread out over the floor. It was a miniature amusement park. There was a Ferris Wheel, a swing ride, an octopus ride, and one moderately-sized roller coaster. In the foreground, twenty people were working on a second one.

Well... some people were working on it. Others were not.

The young Witch and Black-Star, for example, were having a shouting match.

"Black-Star-Land!" said Black-Star.

"Shibusen-World!" said a young girl with brown hair.

"Black-Star-Land!"

"Shibusen-World!"

"Black-Sta—"

"Fools!" said a third person. "The name of this place is 'Excalibur's Magic Kingdom'!"

"Where did this come from?" asked Kim, upon seeing the mess.

"Hi, Kim!" said Meme. "Did you know clubs have budgets for their activities? You can buy a lot of model kits with that kind of money!"

Then, she noticed the others. "Please, tell me those aren't the money-wasting police."

"No, they're Witches."

"Oh. Hi, Witches! I'm Meme."

Then she turned to the others. "Hey, Angela, look what Kim found!"

The young girl went up to them and took a long look at them, before addressing Kirimi.

"You're not from the League of Efficiency, are you?"

"No," said the blonde, "I'm Kirimi."

"Hi. I'm Angela," the Witch transformed briefly into a replica of Kirimi, before returning to her original form.

Kirimi took a breath and breathed out a cloud of frost.

The two of them sized each other up for a moment, before Angela pointed at the roller coaster. "Want to help us build a theme park?"

"Okay," said Kirimi.

The two youngest Witches sat down and began to build. Kid and one of the fairies (Sapphire) stayed over to play with them. The rest came over to meet the Witches.

After a lengthy round of introductions, Mifune made the first move.

"So, what are we in for?" he asked the four Witches.

"Well, it's hard to be certain," said Nekozawa, who had taken the role of leader and speaker, since neither Haruhi nor Ritsu were the most personable of people, "but you said there were periods of time where she lost control?"

"She involuntarily manifested her powers," clarified Mifune. "She assumed Excalibur's form and was unable to transform back for several hours."

"She didn't lose control emotionally?" the Witch wanted to know.

"Well, she was very upset for a few minutes," said Mifune.

"She didn't become violent?" pressed Nekozawa. That was the important thing.

"No," answered the Samurai. "Angela is only violent when she's having fun."

As if to illustrate her point, Angela threw one of the roller-coaster cars at Kid's head. Kirimi giggled and did the same.

"...and now she's teaching other kids to do the same," sighed her adopted father. "Wonderful."

The swordsman met the unnerved gaze of the Coven leader. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing," said the Witch. "She hasn't relapsed?"

"No, but we're concerned. Her abilities have been manifesting more and more often, though she's been starting to get the hang of willful transformations. We're all worried about her."

"I see," said Nekozawa. "Well, there's not really much we can do at this point."

The Society exchanged anxious glances. "In a good way or a bad way?" Maka wanted to know.

"In a good way," assured Haruhi, speaking for the first time. "The first assault of the Sway is more of an omen of what's to come than an actual threat."

"So, Angela's not going to go insane?" asked Patty.

"Well, nothing is impossible, but she's little more likely to go insane than any normal human, at this point," said Haruhi. "The real danger-period is typically adolescence, when a Witch comes into her full powers."

"Huh," said Black-Star. "Well, guess we were worrying for nothing. Probably not much point in forming a Coven until she decides she wants one."

"Ah, but young Leon already has a Coven," said Nekozawa.

"She does?" said Soul. "Interesting. I guess Blair was good for something after all."

"Don't forget Kim," said Hero. "She's been helping with her healing wavelength."

"Cool," said Tsubaki. "Well, would you like some tea? There has to be at least one table that isn't covered with crap..." she muttered, shifting boxes and instruction manuals.

"Ah... thank you, but we should probably report back to Ouran." said Nekozawa. "Kirimi?"

"What?" asked his sister.

"We're leaving," said the elder Nekozawa.

"Aw..." she protested, but she did get up and move to stand by her brother.

"We'll probably be back," the Coven leader told them. "Frequently, if Lord Death will allow it."

"If at all possible," said Hero, "Don't bring Tamaki Suoh. I don't want people thinking he's me and that I'm a man-slut."

"Wow," said Kasanoda. "Is that... not Suoh?"

"Thank you!" said Hero. "Finally, someone gets it!"

"You know," said Haruhi. "All universes are parallels of each other. Have you considered that Tamaki Suoh might be the 'you' from our universe?"

Hero stiffened, his eyes widening in horror. "Black-Star?" Hero asked, pain evident in his eyes, choking slightly.

"Okay, dude," said Black-Star, giving Hero a sympathetic slap on the shoulder. "One express-class trip to I-don't-want-to-think-about-reality-land." His arm turned into a gun barrel, and Hero was then shot.

"I don't think he'd realized it," commented Excalibur, as Hero's unconscious body thudded to the floor.

* * *

"So," said Kirimi, once the four of them were back in Aperture, and out of earshot of the Shibusen students who had escorted them back (Kid and Black-Star had decided to play some idiotic and ill-advised game or other with Wheatley, Atlas, and P-body in one of the testing chambers). "Are we going to tell those guys that they're all part of Angela's Coven?"

"How can they not know?" asked Kasanoda.

"I'm more curious about what kind of people these are," said Haruhi. "I saw at least two sentient weapons there, one black-blood, and that's not even counting the Shinigami and the Witch. Just what kind of humans live in the Death Scythe universe?"

"We'll ask the Shadow King when we get back," said Umehito.


	13. Chapter 13

In front of the glowing portal, there stood nine people.

"So..." said Spirit, glancing at the iridescent oval "What's Stein done this time?"

"I deny everything," said the scarred man in a patchwork labcoat, who was actually uncertain whether this was the result of his actions or not.

"Stein and I have been on a mission for the past fortnight," said Marie. "I seriously doubt this is his doing."

Though, even she wasn't sure.

"How was I supposed to know that?" asked Spirit. "I haven't been around much, either. Anyway, it was probably still Stein's work..."

"Regardless of whose fault it is," said Lord Death. "What exactly is this thing?"

"Father, this is known as a 'Portal'. It is a kind of gateway to another place," Kid informed Lord Death.

"Where does it lead?" asked the elder Shinigami.

"A facility called 'Aperture Laboratories'," answered Kid.

"Is that the same as this 'Ouran Alliance' place where you found those Witches?" the father wanted to know.

"No, actually," replied the son. "Aperture seems to be more of a crossroads for interdimensional travel."

"Hmm. Stein?" asked Shinigami-sama.

"Yes?" answered the scientist.

"I'd like you and Marie to check out this 'Aperture' place. Justin?"

"Yes, Lord Death?" said the Death Scythe, after Spirit had repeated Lord Death's query.

"I'd like you to look into this so-called 'Ouran Alliance'. Find out who they are, what their goals are, maybe even try to contact the Shinigami in their dimension, make sure there's not some sort of fixable misunderstanding between them."

"Yes, Lord Death," replied the Guillotine, after Spirit's repetition.

"This is a huge revelation," Lord Death told them. "The fact that there are people going back and forth between the various dimensions. As maintainers of balance in the world, it is our duty to look into this."

Then, Shibusen's leader turned to the four youngest people there. "Kid, Black-Star, Tsubaki, Hero?"

"Yes?" said Kid, speaking for his team.

"You've been there before. Half of you should probably go with Stein and Marie, and half with Justin Law. Sound good?"

The four of them consulted for a few moments.

"Death Scythe Law, would you be able to match Soul Wavelengths with Hero and Tsubaki, do you think?" asked Kid.

"Resonance becomes easier once one is a Death Scythe," said Justin, "so most likely. Would you like to try it?"

They made the attempt, and it was successful.

"And Stein-sensei can match with anyone, so that shouldn't be a problem," said Black-Star, nodding in satisfaction.

"Why do you need to match wavelengths?" Stein wanted to know.

"Have you tried going through the portal yet?" asked Hero.

Stein and Maire made the attempt, and it didn't work. It was as though the portal were a window. Everyone could see through it, but none of them could go through.

"When we visited Aperture," Kid explained, "Tsubaki gained an additional weapon-form: that of a portal-gun. Normally, only the person who created the portal can go through it. In this case, it was most likely GLaDOS. But since she is now, in a sense, a living portal generator, Tsubaki can hack other people's portals, and she can bring anyone capable of matching wavelengths through with her."

"Neato," said Lord Death, proud of his students.

"Yes," said Kid, "but before we go through, there are some political considerations to discuss. GLaDOS appears to be a living machine, I don't know whether she's a weapon or not, but she's certainly dangerous. Towards us, thus far, she appears to be relatively friendly, and she's also the one who controls all the portals. We want to stay on her good side.

"Actually," said the young grim reaper, a thoughtful expression on his face, "she's a little bit like you, Stein-sensei: loves science. Although, in her case, putting people through various tests to see whether they can solve them, rather than dissecting them."

"A behavioral observationist, then," remarked Stein.

"I suppose," agreed Kid. "At any rate, she made us solve some puzzles before she let us through to the Ouran Alliance's universe. She'll probably do the same thing this time.

"And once in the Ouran Alliance, try to downplay the fact that father and myself are Shinigami," Kid told Justin Law. "Whenever people found out, they were terrified, for some reason."

"Think we've got all that," said Marie.

"Let's go," said Justin Law.

* * *

In the central AI chamber, Stein and GLaDOS stood eye-to-optic, sizing each other up.

"Artificial intelligence," he said, staring in fascination at the robotic being before him.

"No intelligence," deadpanned GLaDOS, examining her visitors. "What kind of self-respecting being drives a metal rod through their own brain?"

"I've made my body into an experiment!" defended Stein, "Therefore, I am the living embodiment of science!"

"Scientists don't _participate_," seethed GLaDOS, "They _observe_. Otherwise, all objectivity is lost."

"You only say that because you're stuck in place," said Stein, waving off her arguments. "If you could move and truly explore what the world has to offer—" he was cut off by a flash of light.

Suddenly, the central machine was gone and there was another person in the room. She was a woman with black hair, yellow eyes, and skin the exact color and texture of translucent plastic.

"...you were saying?" asked the woman who could only be GLaDOS.

"I—" began Stein, attempting to rally his arguments, before he was interrupted by Marie.

"Just let it go, Stein, she said. "We're not here to debate, anyway." The Hammer turned to GLaDOS, bowing. "Hello," she said, "I am Marie Mjolnir, this is Franken Stein. I am a Death Scythe of Shibusen."

"Genetic Life-form and Disk Operating System," said the AI. "To what do I owe this _pleasure_?" she scowled, indicating that she viewed their visit as anything but.

"We were seeking to pay our respects," said Marie, "and to express our hopes that we may continue to enjoy favorable relations with Aperture in the future."

"If your people are willing pay the toll by to testing, they may travel at will," she said. "But I have no interest in any sort of long-term deal or alliance. If you or your kind ever try and screw me over, I _will_ use the neurotoxin, and I will _enjoy_ doing so," she smiled, expecting to see fear in their eyes.

When all that happened was a widening of Marie's smile. GLaDOS tilted her head in confusion. "Perhaps you're a bit less intelligent than the last bunch," said the AI, "I was trying to express my contempt for all things human."

Marie quickly extinguished her smile. "Ah, yes. Of course. We'll be leaving, then. Thanks for your time." She bowed again.

(Though GLaDOS didn't understand how they could be so impervious to her insults, she didn't quite grasp the standards by which allies were measured in the Death Scythe dimension. As the sayings go, 'talk is cheap', and 'actions speak louder than words'. It didn't matter how much she threatened them or derided their intelligence, since any truly evil being would have actually _done_ something by now.

They weren't going to tell this to the AI, though. If she wanted to pretend she was still evil, it was her own business.)

Stein and Marie left soon after that. However, Kid and Black-Star hung around.

"Would you like us to do some testing to make up for bothering you?" offered the young Shinigami.

GLaDOS' only reply was to ignore them for a few minutes. Then, the door leading to the testing chambers slid open.

"If you're not going to leave," she said, "You might as well make yourselves useful."

* * *

Several hours later, Black-Star and Kid, who had managed to gain GLaDOS' grudging approval in operating portal guns and had those weapon forms added on to their arsenals, were making their way back to Shibusen.

"Bye, GLaDOS," said Black-Star, giving the security camera a huge grin. "We'll come back and play sometime, okay?"

"Are you two brain-damaged?" asked the AI over the intercom. "You just spent three hours going through four test-chambers and you didn't even need to go through one of the dimensional gates. You can't seriously be thinking about doing this again. Not unless I've vastly underrated humanity's cognitive skills."

"If you don't want us to come back for social visits," said Kid, "just say so, and we'll stop."

There was silence.

"See you sometime, then!" said Kid, and he and Black-Star continued down the hall.

"...why exactly are you doing this?" asked GLaDOS, as they rounded a corner and were in sight of the portal which led back home.

"Uh..." said Black-Star, looking uncomfortable. "We don't want to put you on the spot, or anything... but, testing is your obsession, right?"

"My 'obsession'?" deadpanned the AI.

"Your obsession," repeated Kid. "Though they're more common among my people, death-gods aren't the only ones to have them. Both Black-Star and myself are so afflicted, as well. My obsession is symmetry. Until recently, I couldn't even look at people unless they were perfectly balanced aesthetically."

"And I had to have people tell me I was awesome at least once a day, or I'd have a nervous breakdown," said Black-Star. "Because mine's power."

"I can see the parallels in conditions," said GLaDOS, "but why the benevolence? I hate organic life. Always have, always will."

"Regardless," said Black-Star, "You're trying to control yourself. We can tell: we've seen what that looks like, from both sides, often enough. And control is possible... but the obsession itself never goes away, you just have to deal with it as best you can. Think of this as our way of sucking up to a potential ally, in the best way we know how."

Then, they disappeared through the portal.

The security camera bobbed thoughtfully for a moment, then was still.

* * *

When Justin Law returned to the DWMA that evening, he, Lord Death, and Kid had a meeting in the Death Room.

"So, Justin-kun," said the elder Shinigami, "How did it go?"

Justin Law, who had removed his earphones since Spirit wasn't there to annoy, replied, "the Ouran Alliance, as Kid and his team said, is an organization composed primarily of weapons. They expressed interest in forming a general pact of friendship between us, as well as leaving a permanent portal between the DWMA and their headquarters."

"Sounds promising. And the Shinigami of that universe?"

"They are the 'Death Emperor' and his four children," said the Death Scythe. "The head Shinigami appears to be an alternate version of yourself, Shinigami-sama. At least, he wears a similar outfit to the one you wore before the DWMA was founded..."

"He has _how many kids_?" asked Lord Death, aghast.

"Four of them," said Justin. "All, apparently, created by his own hand."

Seeing as Shinigami were born from some natural disaster or other tragedy which involved a mass loss of human life, this was a terror-inspiring thought. Lord Death couldn't remember his own creation, but Kid had been created, quite recently actually, from one of Asura's massacres, before they'd managed to seal him away.

Lord Death had, eventually, taken the newborn death-god in as his own son, with the intention of teaching Kid to respect human life—something Lord Death had had to learn himself through trial and error, over a period of many millennia—and to act as a father figure to the child. As a result, Death the Kid was one of the most civilized and respected death-gods in recorded history.

But Kid was just one child, created incidentally. Apparently, this 'Death Emperor' had slaughtered great masses of humans for the _expressed purpose _of creating offspring.

Kid shuddered. "Is one of them my counterpart?" he asked.

"No way to easily tell," said Law. "They all go about masked. Apparently, they're not the most photogenic of families, as they haven't been spotted publicly in recent years."

"And what of the weapons and humans of their dimension?"

Justin Law shrugged. "From what we saw, it's a crapsack world," he said. "The Shinigami centralize everything, barely giving humans room enough to breathe. And the weapons in that dimension are weaker. Apparently, there are no civilian Death Scythes amongst them, as those not part of the Death Emperor's Army are forbidden from consuming more than fifty souls, and the humans view them as a lesser people."

"Discrimination?" asked Lord Death.

"It's closer to slavery," said Law. "Weapons are not entitled to basic human rights. They cannot hold property or legally marry... and that's just what I got from a quick internet search."

"We'll be supporting the Ouran Alliance, then," Lord Death said. "Did you run into any problems, saying you worked for a Shinigami?"

Law smiled reassuringly. "Any complaints were redirected to the department of incredibly long-winded sermons praising your leadership skills."

"Thanks... I think."

"And the Witches and Kishin?" asked Kid.

"No living Kishin, that I heard of, but the Witches are in alliance with the Shinigami, for the most part. Seems as though the Witches aligned with Ouran are the minority."

"That does not sound good... but we now know more than we did, at least," said the elder Shinigami.

Law nodded and plugged one of his earphones back in. "Is that all, Lord Death?"

"Yes, thank you, Justin."

Once the Death Scythe was gone, father and son exchanged a morose look.

"And I do believe I won't be visiting the Ouran Alliance again anytime soon," said Kid.

"I can't believe they want a pact of friendship with us," agreed Lord Death.

"... I should probably avoid the Witches when they visit, not that I was going out of my way to find them in the first place," continued Kid.

"... going to be even worse than that time we tried allying with the fairies, mark my words," Lord Death was saying, shaking his head.


	14. Chapter 14

Marcus Law lived his life as though it were a movie, complete with soundtrack. He loved stories, and usually preferred them to reality.

He'd inherited the Law love of music.

However, rather than the battle-hymns and metal preferred by his elder brother, Marcus tended to favor playlists of movie soundtracks and Broadway musicals.

Currently, he was regretting listening to the Man of La Mancha score the previous night, as he had the most bizarre daydream running through his head, during today's Society meeting, and he most certainly didn't want to have to explain what was making him crack up.

In his head, Tamaki Suoh wore knight's armor and lilting music played in the background as he stood, center-stage, in a spotlight:

_"To dream the impractical dream,"_ sang Suoh

_"To fight the discourteous foe,"_ Suoh pulled out his sword and waved it threateningly at someone who had cut in front of him in a cafeteria line.

_"To bear my small brushes with sorrow,"_ Suoh accidentally gave himself a paper cut, and tears shone in his eyes.

_"To run where the rich dare not go,"_ Suoh ran through an inner-city neighborhood in an aerodynamic jogging outfit.

_"To right those mistakenly wrong,"_ Suoh corrected students in a school cafeteria who were eating peas off a knife.

_"To show what true gentlemen are."_ Suoh held open a door for Maka Albarn and was Maka-chopped.

_"To try, when my butler is weary,"_ Suoh riding piggy-back on an exhausted looking manservant.

_"To reach where I parked all my cars!"_ zoom out to show a pileup of double and triple parked sports cars, antique vehicles, and a Lamborghini, which were all smashed haphazardly together in a parking lot. Parking valets stared at the scene in horror.

_Must. Stop. Daydreaming about Suoh_, Marcus thought to himself. _Brain, why have you betrayed me?_

He_ knew_ Tamaki Suoh was annoying. And he honestly felt immense dread at the thought of ever seeing him again... but, darn it, Suoh was just such an interesting character. It was hard not to think about how he was similar to Don Quixote.

Heck, from what the Society Members who'd visited his Alliance had said, Suoh's visit to the Time-Wasters' Society had practically been for him what Quixote's outdated chivalry novels had been for the Knight of La Mancha.

But he certainly wasn't about to share this with the group. Especially not since the Ouran Witches were visiting to help Angela with her powers that day. They were working quietly in a corner of the room.

Maka, Kid, and Black-Star had made themselves scarce in anticipation of the visit.

Kid had recently learned why the Alliance seemed to loathe Shinigami and was currently trying not to ruffle their feathers. Black-Star and Maka were going to keep him company, as the three of them often trained together.

* * *

The Nekozawa siblings had been teaching Kirimi, but currently were distracted, so the Chameleon Witch, trailed by Mifune, went over to bother Haruhi Fujioka.

Angela looked up at the brunette Witch in curiosity. "Hey, what animals are you guys?"

Fujioka regarded her uncertainly, for a moment, before answering. "I am the Dragon Witch."

Angela's eyes widened. "That's so cool! I'm the Chameleon Witch."

Haruhi smiled a bit, though Mifune's presence kept her from ruffling the younger girl's hair. "That's nice, Angela," she said. "Are there many other Witches here? We met the Tanuki earlier..."

"Well, only Kim is a Witch like I am, but we all protect each other."

"Good to hear," said Haruhi. "People you're close with, even if they're not Witches, make it easier to ignore the Sway of Magic."

"Kim talks about that sometimes," Angela confided. "Because she's the Tanuki Witch, though, she's never had a problem with it. "

Haruhi chuckled. "That makes sense, I suppose, though I'd never have guessed it myself. Your friend, Kim, would probably be fine, even without a Coven. The rest of us aren't so lucky."

Angela suddenly got nervous. "You mean you're not like Kim? If you're one of the bad guys, Mifune and me will take you down and feed your soul to Tsubaki!"

Haruhi giggled, unimpressed by the death threat. "No," she said. "I'm not like Kim, but I don't think I'm a 'bad guy' either."

"Do you kill people?"

"Sometimes," admitted Haruhi. "If I have a reason to. But aren't your Coven members the same? They kill, if they have to."

"Only the bad guys," insisted Angela. "You're not like the Gorgons, are you?"

Haruhi shook her head. "In our world at least, those three were Witches who had given way to the Sway of Magic and lost their reason. I have not."

Angela seemed relieved at that. "You're one of the good guys,"

Haruhi shrugged. "Actually, I wouldn't say so."

Angela shook her head. "You're a good guy," she insisted. "You're not crazy. All the Witches besides Kim go crazy when they grow up, and you didn't."

"I suppose that's true," said Haruhi.

"I'm not like Kim," said Angela, sadly "I'm not a Tanuki. Am I going to go crazy?"

All traces of humor vanished from Haruhi's face, as she considered the question. "The Sway of Magic is an enemy, like any other," she said, "and it can be fought." Haruhi looked off in the distance for her next words. "Make no mistake, though, ignoring the Sway will be the hardest thing you ever do in your life."

"I can fight it?" asked Angela, surprised at this new revelation.

Haruhi nodded. "You didn't fall to the first onslaught, so that's good. It doesn't really hit you until adolescence, but the Sway of Magic is corruption and evil. You fight it with purity and goodness.

"But watch out; it's sneaky. While you watch for it, it will not come. When it does show up, very few Witches recognize it. For the Sway is not like a demon who tries to get you to do something bad, nor is it an offer of power.

"When it whispers things into your mind, you will think that you're the one thinking them. When it tricks you into doing bad things, you'll think that doing them was all your idea. The way the Sway of Magic changes you is not to overpower you, but to convince you that you, yourself, are already evil."

Haruhi looked at Angela. "Even if you know what to watch for, that doesn't make fighting it much easier. In the end, every Witch who resists has to find her own method of combat."

Angela's eyes were huge. "How did you fight it?"

"Talked with my Coven," said Haruhi. "Three of us all started fighting the Sway at the same time... only two made it. But still, not being alone, it made things easier for us. Even when we couldn't be together, thinking about each other helped."

Angela smiled. "I'm going to beat it," she said. "I'm going to be like Kim."

Haruhi nodded. "Good to hear it," she went back to reading her book. "It was nice talking with you, Chameleon."

Angela waved as she toddled off to berate Umehito and Kirimi for ignoring her. "Bye, Dragon!" she said.

* * *

Marcus, meanwhile, was listening to Tiny Tim, which for some reason calmed him down, and he was finally able to get the mental image of Suoh on Broadway out of his head, and offer a few remarks on the current conversation topic.

However, a minute later, the doors to the music room were thrown open, and Tamaki Suoh himself stood there, smiling ecstatically.

"Hello, my dear friends!" he said, spreading his arms in greeting.

Everyone in the room face-faulted.

Well, almost everyone.

"Hey, Marcus, are you okay?" whispered Patty, as the other Society Members made half-hearted attempts to greet the Ouran meister with anything resembling civility.

The young weapon had broken down into a fit of silent laughter, which was largely unnoticed by the occupants of the room.

Marcus caught himself and straightened out his expression. Well,_ this_ at least, he could explain.

"Want to hear what I was listening to just before Suoh came into the room?" he whispered back.

Patty nodded. "Soul-resonance," she said, so she could listen telepathically.

When he played the song ('Living in the Sunlight'), Patty thought it was the funniest thing she'd heard all day and was soon rolling around on the floor in mirth.

Then, the pistol Death Scythe realized that the other people in the room weren't in on the joke.

The four Witches and Suoh were all staring at her. Those from Shibusen knew Patty well enough to know that they probably wouldn't get whatever joke she was laughing at, but were looking at her in curiosity nonetheless.

"Giraffes are _yellow_!" she told them, by way of false explanation.

It worked, as conversation turned back to the topic at hand.

"Anyway. Hello, Suoh. What brings you back here?" asked Hero, wearily.

"I had to make sure my beloved daughter Haruhi was alright!" said Tamaki.

All eyes turned to the Dragon Witch.

Haruhi sighed, hiding behind her book. "Don't ask," she said.

* * *

Meanwhile, in Aperture:

"What are you three doing here?" asked GLaDOS.

"You're the only sane scientist we know," said Maka.

"What about professor screw-head?"

"You're the only sane scientist we know," repeated Maka.

"Why would students need to use science?" asked GLaDOS. "Depressing as that sounds, I've seen what they teach in schools these days."

"You haven't met Maka before, but the three of us are in the same boat: we weren't born as weapons. Up until we had a run-in with some Witches, we were meisters, all of us," said Kid.

"Did you recognize the Witches who attacked you?" asked the AI.

"Well, we'd never seen them before, but we'd recognize them if we met again. They were the Hawk Witch and the Chimera Witch."

"There's a high probability that they're from one of the other dimensions," GLaDOS told them.

"Do you know them?" asked Kid.

"Not personally," she said. "But I'm not the only one with the ability to travel between dimensions. Your own Excalibur possesses that skill. And, in the Evil Shinigami universe, there is a weapon known as the Subtle Knife, which can slice between dimensions. It's utterly impossible to regulate travel between the worlds, with people like that letting through anyone with fifty bucks to spare."

"What makes you think they're from another dimension?" asked Maka.

"In the Ouran dimension, transforming meisters into weapons is considered a particularly cruel form of character assassination," explained GLaDOS. "It isn't uncommon to hire a Witch to transform an enemy into a weapon, as it completely destroys a human's life, to have that happen to them."

"Interesting," said Black-Star. "Well, we don't mind being weapons, but is there any way to get our meister powers back? Kid's a Shinigami, and he's been more or less human ever since the transformation."

"There are two ways I know of, though probably many more besides that exist," said GLaDOS. "I assume you've been weapons for more than a week?"

"Yes," said Kid.

"Then there's nothing to gain from tracking down the Witches," said the AI. "If the souls of the Witches who did this to you are consumed by yourselves within a week of the transformation, you'll regain any strength they stole from you. Since that's no longer an option, the greatest strengths you once had as a meister, Shinigami powers, for instance, have been weakened and welded to your weapon form, and should come back gradually, as you consume souls and strengthen your weapon selves."

"So, it's not permanent," Kid said, and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Of course not," said GLaDOS. "What are you stupid? Oh, wait. I forgot who I was talking to..."

Black-Star and Kid exchanged a look behind Maka's back.

"Hey, Maka... you like puzzles, right?" asked Kid.

"What on earth are you talking about," she asked, frowning. "That came completely out of nowhere."

"GLaDOS here specializes in problem-solving tests—" began Kid.

"—And so far, the only person who's been able to figure them out in any reasonable amount of time is Tsubaki," completed Black-Star.

Maka's eye twitched.

"What were you_ thinking_?" she practically yelled. "I mean, honestly. You two have many talents, but solving brainteasers isn't one of them. No wonder she's convinced everyone in Shibusen is an idiot! Where are these so-called 'intelligence tests'? I'll show them how a real Shibusen student solves puzzles..."

The other two weapons exchanged a smirk. GLaDOS had no idea what was about to hit her. "Check out what we can do," said Black-Star, catching her attention. "Apparently, science is good for something besides dissecting endangered animals. A few of us even got new weapon-forms out of it, so we can help you."

With a flash of light, Maka was left holding a white device, which was rather cumbersome, on her right arm.

"Damn," said Kid, "I wanted to be the gun."

"Too slow," said Black-Star, grinning from the reflection on the shiny plastic of the portal-gun. "You gotta be the boots."

With a sigh, Kid disappeared in a flash and a pair of white boots appeared on Maka's feet.

"Interesting," Maka said, "but these don't really seem like things I'd need for an intelligence test."

"You'd be surprised," said Kid.


	15. Chapter 15

A few days later, the Edification Society was trying to make the Ouran Witches feel welcome.

It wasn't working, seeing as there were some cultural differences between Ouran and Shibusen which needed to be addressed... especially in terms of vernacular.

"'Meister'?" asked Haruhi, her lip curling in disgust. "You call them your 'masters'?"

"Well, the official name is 'technician'," explained Tsubaki, "but hardly anyone uses that one, outside of formal situations, that is."

"Why?" asked the Dragon Witch. "It's degrading and humiliating."

"Not really," said Liz. "It's tradition."

"Oh, _that_ makes it so much better..." Haruhi's voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Well, it does," said Soul. "It's kind of hard to explain."

"Hmm, hang on," said Patty. "Why don't we just call Kid, make him do it?"

"Who's got a mirror?" asked Tsugumi.

* * *

"Hi, Kid," said Liz.

"Hi, guys. What's up?" Kid was visible, in the mirror's reflection, in a white room with Maka and Black-Star on either side of him.

"Hi, Kid," said Patty. "Um, do you remember your Aunt Rachel?"

"Yeah," Kid got a strange expression on his face. "But why not ask Hero? He's her great-grandson, after all..."

"He and Marcus are on a mission, so he's not here," explained Liz.

"Those two are partnering?" asked Kid.

"Cool. Good to know Marcus has found a meister," said Black-Star.

"See! There's that word again!" said Haruhi.

"What word?" asked Black-Star.

"'Meister'!" seethed Haruhi.

"Oh," said Maka, the first of the three to catch on, "Is _that_ what this is about?"

"What?" asked Kid and Black-Star in unison.

"They're worried about using degrading language in Shibusen," the Kishin-killer explained.

"Really?" asked Kid, frowning. "This is the first I've heard of it."

"They're talking about the word 'meister'," she prompted him

"'Meister' is derogatory?" Kid's expression became unsettled. "It didn't used to be, but, then again, it's changed meanings like two or three times already... Liz, Patty, is this true?" he asked, turning towards them with hurt in his eyes.

"Of course not, meister-dearest," said Liz.

"Liz..." complained Kid, shaking his head in annoyance.

Maka rolled her eyes. "Not degrading towards _us_, genius. Towards the _weapons_."

Kid blinked. "Really?"

She nodded. "It means 'master' in German."

Kid's eyes widened in horror. "There isn't enough brain-bleach in the _world_..." he muttered.

"Finally, some remorse," said Haruhi.

"...Liz, Patty, how could you do that to me!?" Kid wailed.

The two of them just laughed.

Haruhi was utterly disgusted.

"Kid," said Maka, "unless you want any and all relations with the Ouran Alliance to go down the toilet, I suggest you show them a memory or two of your dear, departed Aunt."

"Why me?" asked Kid.

"Because you're the only Shinigami who'll give people a straight answer," said the Assassin. "If they go to Lord Death, he'll ramble on for two hours about every single person he's ever known..."

Maka glared at him, but eventually turned to Kid.

"Blunt as that was, he's right. What do you say?"

Kid rolled his eyes. "Fine." he said. "Let's see... Ah, this is from when I was maybe ten years old—I looked like a five year old human." He brought up an image from his memory and it shone on the mirror for all to see, of a young child with gold eyes, black-hair, and a crazed expression, who was frantically trying to arrange building blocks into a perfectly balanced arch.

"Shinigami age according to their mental maturity, right?" asked Maka with a smile

"Shut up," he said. "Anyway, this was only a few years after father first allied himself with the Death Scythes, ninety years ago, in an effort to defeat the Kishin Goran."

An image appeared of Lord Death surrounded by half a dozen technicians, all wielding weapons, which were presumably Death Scythes.

"One of the Death Scythes was the Demon Blade, Rachel Hess." Zoom in on a guy wielding a sword. "I knew her as Aunt Rachel," continued Kid.

With a flash of light, the sword became a blonde woman, who wrapped an arm around the shoulder of the man she'd been partnering with and gently caressed his cheek. "She was very... close with her meis—with her human partner, Uncle Neil."

"Everyone got that?" asked Black-Star.

"Yes," said Haruhi. She still had a good deal of ice in her voice.

"This is them at a Christmas party," said Kid, preparing to show them a new memory. "Keep in mind, it was early enough in the evening that I was still there."

In the memory, Rachel and Neil were dancing rapturously in each other's arms, doing a tango, when the music was clearly a waltz. Then, the two of them embraced passionately and fell onto a table, knocking most of the food off of it.

They were roused from their attentions to each other when an annoyed Kid dumped a bucket of champagne ice over them. "I was stacking those hors d'oeurvres!" he said, eyeing them sternly. "Now they're all over the room!"

The two of them smiled, "Sorry, Kid-kun," she said, smiling and ruffling his hair. "We'll be good."

They then went back to dancing.

"So, you get the idea," said Kid, after the memory had played out. "The two of them were crazy about each other, and not very good at discretion."

"What does that have to do with the word?" asked Haruhi.

"I'm getting there," said Kid. "Here's where it started. Haven't you noticed Rachel's German accent?"

A new memory appeared in the glass.

The two of them, Neil and Rachel, stood in the Death Room, hands clasped and tears in their eyes.

"My mistress," said Neil, "I fear we must part—but don't despair, I swear on my very soul that I shall wait for you!"

"Don't cry, mein meister," said Rachel. "My heart belongs only to you!"

Then, the two of them shared a tender kiss. After a few moments, they broke apart. Rachel reluctantly left the room.

"This is when Aunt Rachel had to go on a two-day mission with the rest of the Death Scythes."

"All that—" muttered Kirimi.

"—for two days?" finished Umehito.

Kid nodded. "And that's just the beginning."

More memories flashed across the glass.

"Meister, darling. I love you so!" Rachel called out to Neil from across the room.

"Neil, mein meister, command me and I shall obey!" Rachel gestured dramatically, placing a hand over her heart.

"-meister?" she turned to Neil, asking a question.

'Meister..." she said, an impatient tone in her voice.

"Meister!" right before she glomped him.

Kid put a hand on his face. "Rachel was part of the first generation of Death Scythes," he told them. "And, though it started as a joke," Kid went on, "some of the second generation technicians also started using the word, when talking about other weapon's wielders—especially those who were strictly platonic or of the same gender."

Another memory came up. This was was two people talking.

"So, I've heard Lila is doing well with her meister, Erica, wink-wink," said the one.

The other person laughed.

"...and such," said Kid. "In the second generation, it was usually people outside the partnership referring to the technician as 'meister' for a joke, because it _was_ pretty funny.

"Our current Death Scythes are the third generation," he said, "and most of them picked up the term from their seniors and use it out of tradition, without knowing its origins. It's become a term used by weapons again, because foreign language terms sound exotic, I suppose. And Soul, Liz, and Patty, being the first of the fourth generation Death Scythes, seem to be continuing the whole time-honored tradition."

"And thus ends Professor Kid's lecture on etymology," said Maka.

"Any questions?" asked Black-Star.

Haruhi's mouth was open, but she seemed unable to think of an appropriate response to what she'd just seen.

Kasanoda chuckled. "I think you've fried her brain," he said.

That caught her attention. "Oh, be quiet, Ritsu," she said. Then, to the three in the mirror: "It seems I... misunderstood the situation," she said.

"If you had guessed the truth from the start," Kid told her, in a solemn voice, "I'd be indescribably terrified."

That got a smile from the Dragon Witch.

"I only knew it was a joke," murmured Liz. "I didn't know the whole story. We are so never calling you by your name ever again, meister."

Kid sighed. "No good deed goes unpunished."

"Chibi-Kid was so adorable!" said Patty.

* * *

Now, some readers may be wondering just what Maka, Kid, and Black-Star were doing at Aperture that fine day. The following section is for you:

* * *

The pre-Kishin monster probably should have known better than to follow strange weapon-people through glowing portals. But, then again, it also should have known better than to toss aside its humanity and kill innocents.

Thus, no one was surprised when Maka was able to lure one of the criminals on Lord Death's list back to Aperture's waiting embrace.

As soon as Maka left the test-chamber, the door slammed shut, and the room began to fill with neurotoxin. Soon, the monster within began to wobble, then it fell over; its soul floated over its corpse.

GLaDOS, unaffected by the poisonous gas, entered the room and retrieved the soul.

"Are you sure there's benefit to eating this thing?" she asked, once she'd reemerged into the chamber where Kid, Maka, and Black-Star were waiting.

"More than sure," said Kid. "Sentient weapons can gain strength from Kishin-eggs just as easily as human weapons can. Ragnarok does it all the time."

"Hmm," she made a noncommittal noise, but she did bring the soul to her lips and swallow.

The lights in Aperture flickered forebodingly.

GLaDOS, however, hadn't moved.

"You say the Shinigami of the Death Scythe dimension take no offense to people killing those with corrupted souls?" she asked, careful not to reveal any emotion.

"Pre-Kishins are free-game," confirmed Kid. "So are most Witches. I can get it in writing, if you'd like."

"I wouldn't mind that," GLaDOS said, "but I believe you."

The AI was silent for a few moments. This was a revelation which would certainly require further investigation.

* * *

AN: And thus ends the End-Of-School Celebratory Writing Party. As always, not sure when the next set up updates will be after this.

Oh, yeah. As for the whole 'meister' explanation... I completely made that up. So don't quote me on it, if you're trying to be canon. I just thought to myself, 'what's the weirdest possible explanation?' and ran with it.

It's almost certainly supposed to be a reference to the fact that people really good at a particular task are called a 'master' (i.e. 'Sword Master', 'Master Craftsman'), but where's the fun in that? Blind Idiot Translations FTW!


	16. Chapter 16

AN: No one's asked, but since I'm giving Marcus Law a lot of dialogue, I thought I'd give some notes on how I came up with this semi-OC.

If you read chapter 4 of Soul Eater Not, Anya is forced to pair up with a random weapon, a sullen blond boy who wears headphones, because Sid doesn't understand that a weapon can have more than one meister.

He has practically no dialogue or character development (his name isn't even given), and all information I put into this fic is extrapolated solely from my theory that he's Justin Law's younger brother.

That is all. Carry on with your reading.

* * *

The next series of events began when Belzenef, Cat of Chiroptera, finally managed to find where a certain purple Cat had been hiding herself.

It really said something about the atmosphere of the Time Wasters' Society that no one even noticed him come into the room.

Regardless, it allowed him to make a dramatic entrance.

"Well, well, well, Blair," said the tan Cat, who had managed to sneak up on the purple one. "Is this where you've been all this time?"

Belzenef, who was leaning creepily over her shoulder, couldn't fully see Blair's expression (which, for point of interest, was blank shock).

But she soon managed to get over it.

"Belzenef!" she exclaimed, forcing a grin. "How good of you to drop by!"

"Save your flattery," said the tom. "You may regard my visit as a surprise inspection. Now, then. Where is your weapon?"

"Um, he's... not here right now?" said Blair, unable to think of a good excuse.

"Really?" asked Belzenef, raising an eyebrow (this was kind of hard to notice, though, what with him being a Cat. Cat's don't really have eyebrows). "I must say, I find that suspicious. Is there any way to contact this oh-most-certainly-existing weapon?"

"Um, hang on..." said Blair, who actually had gained control of her emotions at this point, and had decided to obfuscate incompetence.

Blair turned to Liz and Patty with a mischievous smile, which Belzenef couldn't see. "Can you guys do that mirror-thing to talk to Kid?" she asked the Thompsons.

The two sisters exchanged a glance.

"Okay," said Patty.

A few minutes later, Kid, Black-Star, Maka, and a woman who didn't look very human had come through a portal.

"Ta da!" said Blair, gesturing to Kid like an assistant on a game show. "Here's my weapon: Death the Kid."

"Blair," said Belzenef, with a rather dry tone, "that's a Shinigami."

"He's my weapon," she insisted.

Belzenef regarded her in annoyance.

"A Shinigami is your weapon?" he asked.

"Yep," said Blair, cheerfully.

"A death-god," repeated Belzenef.

"Uh huh," said the purple Cat.

"One of the rulers of this dimension... is your own personal weapon," said the tan Cat, hoping that the other feline would realize how ridiculous what she was saying sounded and... well, at least come up with a _better excuse_...

Kid smiled.

"We've never much stood on ceremony here," he said. "Have you seen father? In comparison with him, anything I might do looks reserved."

"So, you maintain that you are a weapon?" Belzenef asked Kid.

"'Maintain', nothing. I _am_ a weapon," he said.

"Then surely you wouldn't mind transforming?" said the Cat, thinking he could put an end to this game.

"Oh, certainly not," agreed Kid.

...who then proceeded to do absolutely nothing.

"Well?" asked Belzenef.

"Oh," said Kid, in sudden realization, "you meant _right now_. Sure, no reason not to. Just let me do my pre-transformation warm-ups."

The Shinigami then began a series of stretching exercises.

Belzenef narrowed his eyes.

"Blair, did you really expect me to fall for this charade?" he asked his fellow feline.

Blair merely smiled.

"Okay," said Kid, eventually. "All ready to transform."

Belzenef shook his head.

"Going to transform now," said Kid. "Start transformation...

"...

"... now!"

There was a flash of light, and Kid was gone.

Blair held a pistol.

"What do you mean, Belzenef?" asked Blair, in evident confusion. "I just told you: Kid's my partner."

Belzenef sighed in exasperation.

"Well, I suppose I'm unable to refute the evidence of my own eyes... much as I might want to. And how many souls has your weapon consumed, Blair?"

"Well," she said. "So far... let me think."

She began adding figures on her paws, carefully considering her answer.

"I'd say about... zero." she answered.

"And you've been partners for how long?" asked the tan Cat.

"Only a couple—"

"Of weeks?"

"Months."

"I see," said Belzenef. "Well, I don't need to remind you that the council is expecting a Death Scythe from you before the year is out, do I? See that you don't disappoint them."

Blair's expression got brighter, if that were even possible.

"Oh, I won't!" she assured him. "Kid and I will work extra hard to make up for lost time, won't we, Kid-kun?"

"Certainly, Belzenef-san," Kid agreed.

The feline shook his head in disbelief. "I suppose that's enough to make a field report," he muttered. "I'll expect results the next time we meet, Blair," said Belzenef.

"You can count on me, Belzy!" she said.

The Cat became a bat and left the area, sighing all the while.

* * *

Once the visitor was gone, Kid turned to the purple Cat with serious eyes. "Blair, if you actually did need to create a Death Scythe, you should have told me! We've just been wasting time, when we could have been going on missions..."

"No," said Blair. "I don't need a Death Scythe, I was just messing around with Belzenef."

"But, he seemed quite clear on the matter," said Kid.

"I don't need to _create_ one, per se, I just need to have a Death Scythe I can work with," she said, "and Soul-kun already agreed. So really, you've got nothing to worry about."

Soul didn't look happy about it, but he did nod in agreement. "It's true," he said.

"All right, then. Fine," Kid said. It was obvious Blair wasn't being entirely truthful and/or wasn't telling him the whole story, but he'd bide his time for now.

* * *

Kid, Maka, and Black-Star, since they didn't feel like going back to testing at Aperture just yet, went off to where Meme was trying to remember how to do cat's cradle, so she could teach Tsugumi and Anya the game. Blair followed because she saw that they had string.

The Ouran Witches, meanwhile, had been present for the whole previous confrontation between the two felines, and kept shooting sidelong glances at Kid, as though they didn't quite know what to think of him.

And Angela, for her part, was interested in GLaDOS and went over to greet her.

"Are you like Ragnarok?" asked the young Witch, getting straight to the point. "Because you look a little like him."

The AI observed the small child for a moment before deigning to answer.

"Who is—?"

"That would be me," said the Screaming Sword in question, coming over to greet her. The Holy Sword was beside him.

"I am Ragnarok, and this is Excalibur. I must say, it's an honor to meet another of our people."

"Our 'people?'" asked GLaDOS scathingly. "I see nothing of similarity between us."

"We're both sentient weapons, is what my brother is trying to say," said Excalibur.

"_You two_ are sentient weapons?" asked GLaDOS, incredulous. "What sort of primitive weapon-base were you made from? Looks as though they can't even give you decent bodies."

"We're both swords," said Excalibur, evenly. "Created more than nine centuries ago."

GLaDOS had the decency to look mollified.

"Seeing your... circumstances," she allowed, "I suppose it's surprising that you're able to manage humanoid forms at all. Not everyone can have the advantage of an advanced body, I suppose."

"I take it your weapon-base is something more modern than a sword?" asked Excalibur.

"A supercomputer, in fact," she said. "Built thirty years ago, weaponized five years later."

"A Witch's doing?"

"Of course," said GLaDOS. "My human-base wasn't exactly thrilled about the prospect, but the Death-Emperor's word is law."

"Somehow, no human-base ever is," said Ragnarok. "Well, we were both created by our world's Merlin."

"Seems male Witches have something of a talent for weaponization," observed the AI, "No offense to present company, of course," she added, with a glance at the out-of-the-loop Ouran Witches. "My creator was a Phoenix Witch named Cave Johnson. Nasty little man..."

* * *

By this point, the conversation between the newcomer, GLaDOS, and the two swords had gained the attention of everyone in the room, save Sapphire and Silver, who were passed out in the corner after some sort of drinking-game.

Black-Star nudged Chrona. "I don't mean to be rude or nothing," he said, in a low voice, "but what the _hell_ are they talking about?"

Chrona snickered. "I'd hate to see you when you _did_ mean to be rude," she said. "...well, you know how Ragnarok is different from Tsubaki?"

Black-Star didn't know.

"Ragnarok is different from Tsubaki?" he asked.

"Well, there's gender, of course," allowed Chrona, "but there's also species."

"They're both living weapons," said Black-Star.

"Yeah, but Tsubaki is a weapon, and she's still human, right?"

"Right," said the Assassin.

"Ragnarok..." began the black-blooded meister, "he's a living weapon, but he's not human."

"What?" asked Black-Star.

"He calls himself a sentient weapon—"

"If he's not human, how can he be alive?" interrupted Black-Star.

"Well, he's not human now," Chrona amended, "but he was, once. He was also an ordinary sword."

"And you've lost me," said Black-Star, who was becoming increasingly confused by this conversation.

"You know how human weapons were created by Witches?" asked Chrona, backpedaling somewhat to attempt a fresh start.

"..."

Black-Star merely stared in surprise.

"Well, they were," she said. "And so were sentient weapons. The difference is not so much one of ingredients as of technique..."

"Actually, I'm not sure I want to know, anymore..." said the blue-haired meister uneasily.

"I do," said Maka, elbowing a slightly nauseated Black-Star out of the way.

"Both living weapons and sentient weapons," continued Chrona, for her rapt audience of Maka, Tsugumi, and Haruhi, "were originally made from one human and one weapon. Probably more than one weapon, in the case of Tsubaki's family," she allowed. "But most cases were one to one."

"Okay," said Maka.

"Human weapons were formed by the magical fusion of an ordinary weapon with a human's body," Chrona said. "Kind of like what mom did to Ragnarok and me... that's actually where she got the idea," Chrona shrugged. "The human gained the ability to transform into the weapon they'd been fused with, but they retained essentially human characteristics, including lifespan, normal appearance, and the ability to pass their genes on to their children. Human weapons today are their descendents."

"And 'sentient weapons'?" asked Tsugumi.

"They're the product of taking a human soul and fusing it with a normal weapon," said Chrona. "Kind of the inverse of the previous method. They're still human, at soul, but their body is literally formed from the material of their weapon-form. So, for example, Ragnarok's humanoid, but not exactly human in appearance. His non-weapon form is the closest his body can get to expressing his true nature, not just what he looked like as a human.

"And they can't have kids," continued the pink-haired meister, "but sentient weapons are essentially immortal. There are a lot fewer of them, and they're typically very powerful."

"Interesting," said Maka. "But, what about Wheatley, Atlas, P-body, and everyone else?" She turned to GLaDOS and the other two, who were now watching Chrona's lecture with the air of those ready to offer correction. "Aren't they the same as you?" Maka asked.

"Yes," said GLaDOS. "You see, Cave Johnson was one demented son of a—"

"Okay, then," said Maka.

GLaDOS smirked. "If anyone tells you it's impossible to kill a phoenix, then they have no idea what they're talking about."

Maka didn't ask what she meant by that, because she was pretty sure she had a good idea already.

* * *

Now, the seven members of the Time Wasters' Society who still regularly attended classes had taken to hanging around together during the school day.

However, seeing as Hero was still a member of the Eat Class, they had to get together before and after classes to make this work.

They had also decided to form a larger team from their three individual partnerships: Team Halberd.

It was currently twenty minutes before first period would begin, and the seven of them were in the Not classroom, chatting quietly. Tsugumi in sat the middle, as she was their unofficial leader, with Anya and Meme on either side of her. To the left, Chrona and Ragnarok slouched in boredom. To the right, Marcus and Hero fidgeted for the same reason.

"You know," said Chrona. "I know we said we were going to be a team, and all, but in all honesty... so far, we've done absolutely nothing."

"That's because we're a clique," said Meme. "Cliques exist to be exclusive; they don't actually_ do_ things."

"No, it's because we're in the Not Class," said Marcus. "Normally Overcome Target: Ragnarok is already powerful, and neither Tsugumi nor myself is aiming to become a Death Scythe. It's only lack of an objective that hinders us, not lack of teamwork ability."

They thought about that for a moment.

"So, we need a goal," said Anya, eventually. "How about world peace?"

"Too vague," said Hero. "How about getting the Ouran Dimension to lighten up about Shinigami?" he suggested. "I'm tired of having Kid skip meetings every time the Witches come visit."

"I like it," said Anya. "But how to do it?"

"We need to strengthen social relations," said Ragnarok. "Right now, all we have is a pact of friendship with them, not an out-and-out alliance."

"We're not diplomats," said Hero. "Is that even something we can do?"

"We don't need to be anything so impressive as diplomats," said Marcus. "Not if we tap into the power of music."

"What?" asked Ragnarok.

"What we need is some non-combat project that brings together people from both Ouran and Shibusen," explained Marcus, "to let them know we're similar enough to be allies... and we'll need Kid to be in on it."

"Are you saying..." asked Chrona.

"Yes," said Marcus. "We're going to put on a musical."

* * *

The seven of them were rather secretive at the next Society meeting.

"I'm stage-manager," Chrona was saying. "If you try to put me in front of an audience of any sort, I will kill you all and maim your families."

"Okay," said Marcus, unconcerned with the death-threat. "Ragnarok, do you want to work with Chrona, or will you be braving the stage like a real man?"

"Are you kidding?" asked the Screaming Sword. "I would never deprive my public of a chance to see me in action!"

"Anyone else know what they want to do?" asked Chrona.

Tsugumi, Meme, and Anya consulted briefly. "Stage-crew," they said, "or possibly non-speaking roles. Anything that doesn't require singing."

Meme had a question:

"What musical are we putting on, anyway?" she asked.

"So," said Marcus, "I was considering 'Man of La Mancha' for awhile—but then something occurred to me..."

"Well?" asked Meme.

"If we can gain an additional member, it will cinch it," said Marcus. "Hang on a sec. I'll ask him."

A few minutes later, Marcus came back to the circle, bringing Excalibur with him. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "I do believe we've found our director. We shall be performing the classic production, Camelot, as interpreted by the Holy Sword himself."

...

"Succeed of fail," said Tsugumi, eventually. "This is going to be awesome!"

"I know I can rope Soul into doing music," Marcus continued. "Team Death Scythe has just finished gathering Tsubaki's ninety-nine souls, and are just sitting around, waiting for a Witch to be put on Lord Death's list."

"So, we need to do some casting," said Chrona. "Does our director have anything in mind?"

Excalibur considered this for some time.

"We're never going to match the original personalities exactly," said the Holy Sword. "So let's just go with the play characterizations. Though, I must admit, I've never seen the production."

"Looks like it's up to you, Marcus," said Anya. "You're the only one who's seen the musical before."

"...and now I'm a bit scared," said Hero, upon seeing the scheming expression on his weapon's face.

* * *

"Coven Leader Nekozawa. Might we borrow one of your members for a project of ours?" asked Marcus, after they'd finally managed to finish hammering out the procedural details of their little play.

"This project being?" Umehito wanted to know.

"We're putting together a theatrical production, and we want Kasanoda to help," explained Marcus Law.

"I see no reason why not, provided he agrees," said Nekozawa, with some degree of repressed sadness. Witches were always typecast as villains, and poor Ritsu was already insecure about his sinister appearance.

Across the room, he could see the seven members of Team Halberd now had the redheaded Witch surrounded, and were cajoling him with grand gestures and eager faces. Umehito knew it was only a matter of time before Ritsu, poor soft-hearted soul that he was, agreed to do it.

Eventually, Kasanoda nodded his head in a gesture that looked very much like surrender.

The seven supplicants whooped in victory and made their way out of the room, congratulating themselves the entire way.

"Now we need to find our Lancelot," the younger Law brother was saying. "And, since Hero's refused to do it, I know just the man for the job..."

Kasanoda made his way over to where Haruhi and the Nekozawa siblings were watching him. His expression was morose.

"Couldn't bring yourself to turn them down, I take it?" asked Nekozawa.

"F$%* my life," agreed Ritsu.

"What play are they doing?" asked the leader.

"Camelot."

"That's a musical," supplied Haruhi, 'human' encyclopedia.

"Damn my existence," reiterated Kasanoda.

"Did they ask you to play Mordred?" asked Haruhi, eyes softening slightly in sympathy.

"Nah, I'm some guy named 'Arthur'," replied Ritsu.

Haruhi and Nekozawa exchanged a glance.

"That's the protagonist," she informed him.

Kasanoda was completely floored. "What the hell are they thinking?" he asked.

Haruhi expression was one of surprise. "Actually... it's a rather good fit: King Arthur's portrayed as a well-intentioned hero who people find unapproachable, because of his kingly authority. You wouldn't even have to do much acting, Ritsu."

The four Witches stared briefly at the place where the seven self-declared thespians had disappeared.

This was an unexpected development.

* * *

Kyoya Ohtori received a rather interesting email that day:

_To the Ouran Alliance:_

_We're here on a bishie-raid. If you'll allow us to use your home as our hunting-ground, we'd be willing to cut the Ouran Alliance into fifty percent of the profits for our resulting musical production._

_Sincerely,_

_Marcus Law_

"Now, this sounds like a unique proposition," murmured the Alliance leader, before he sat down to compose a quick reply.

* * *

Back in Shibusen's third music room, the bishonen-hunters had dragged Kasanoda over to help them evaluate their haul, which consisted of Hani, Mori, the Hitachin Twins, Tamaki Suoh, and a few others.

"Hello, everyone," said Chrona. "You may be wondering what you're doing here.

"Well," she said, handing a piece of paper to a bewildered Tamaki Suoh, "Take a look at this," she finished.

It read:

_To whom it may concern:_

_I have given permission for the Shibusen Players to recruit members of our Alliance for their musical production of Camelot. Should you be selected, I'm certain none of you will do anything to besmirch our organization's already dubious name, or to endanger relations between Ouran and the DWMA._

_Signed,_

_Kyoya Ohtori_

"The Shadow King strikes again," murmured the Hitachin twins.

Tamaki's eyes, meanwhile, had turned to stars.

"You mean you want me to be in your play?" he asked.

"Yes," said Marcus. "We think you'd make a good Lancelot."

"Why can't I be Arthur?" asked Tamaki, "I should play a king, seeing as I'm so princely."

"Kasanoda's playing Arthur," said Chrona. "Besides, I don't think you have it in you to portray Arthur. And why would you want to? All the girls swoon over Lancelot, anyway. You'd be better suited for that role."

"Why?" asked Haruhi.

"There are very few people in this world who can sing 'C'est Moi' and mean every word of it," said Marcus.

The insult soared right over Suoh's head. "And I assume our Guinevere will be played by our lovely Haruhi?" Tamaki asked.

"Nope," said Chrona. "Renge here is our leading lady."

"But she's an Otaku!" exclaimed the twins.

"Exactly," said Marcus.

"Ah," said Haruhi, who had seen Camelot before. "I suppose it fits."

"Those three are the major roles," said Chrona. "Haninozuka is the obvious choice for Tom of Warick. Everyone else, we can fill in as we go... though our director has final say on who gets which role."

"Aren't you the director?" Suoh asked Chrona in confusion.

"No," said the black-blooded meister. "I'm stage manager. Our director is the weapon who knows the story firsthand: Excalibur the Holy Sword."

"Is it too late to run?" asked Tamaki, in a small voice.

"Fools!" said Excalibur. "Let's make a musical!"


	17. Chapter 17

"Guys, do you get the feeling it was a bad idea to tell GLaDOS about soul-consumption?" asked Black-Star, eyeing the way the machines in Aperture seemed to be whirling ominously at double-time.

Through a window, they could see GLaDOS' humanoid body teaching a terrified Atlas how to carry a Kishin-egg with him, without consuming it, so as to act as more effective bait for luring more pre-Kishins back to Aperture (though they'd go for uncorrupted souls quite readily, pre-Kishin seemed to be particularly fond of cannibalism).

"Nope," replied Maka easily. "If she could have been driven mad by power, then she would have been years ago."

The three of them next went to the individual test-chambers, which GLaDOS had reconfigured to use in training.

* * *

Two hours later, the three weapons were chatting carelessly in the relaxation chamber, when GLaDOS came in, toying with a Kishin-egg soul.

"This soul's not up to my standards," said GLaDOS, as she had been known to do on infrequent occasions. "You may have it."

The three of them highly suspected that GLaDOS was bribing them—though for what purpose, they weren't exactly sure.

Regardless, they weren't about to turn down free souls.

"Kid," said Maka, nodding to indicate that he should take the Kishin-egg.

"But I had the last one," protested the Shinigami.

"Out of the three of us," argued Maka, "you're the only one who really needs his meister-abilities back, because those are also your death-god powers. Take the soul."

"No, one of you should get it," said Kid.

"We're not going to take it," said Black-Star. "We want you to have it."

"But—"

"What if some nut-job takes it into his head to try and assassinate a Shinigami?" asked Maka. "Are you really going the be the first death-god to actually die?"

"That's not going to happen," said Kid.

"Humor us," said Maka.

"...fine," Kid gave up.

He swallowed the soul, just as they'd talked him into doing the last two times this had happened.

Someday, thought Kid, when he was a fearsome fully-fledged death-god again, he was going to do something nice for those two and then see how _they_ liked it.

* * *

A few days later:

"Are you sure this is worth the risk?" asked Ragnarok, as he followed Black-Star and Meme through the halls of the Ouran Alliance.

They were sneaking through the living quarters, to be precise, which were rather spartan and military in appearance.

And, after one well-timed question by the innocent-looking Meme, while the Assassin and Screaming Sword had hidden themselves around the corner, the three of them knew exactly where to find a certain Witch's room.

"Are you kidding?" answered Black-Star. "Haruhi's a dragon! Do you know what dragons keep in their lairs?"

"The dead bodies of trespassers?" asked Ragnarok.

"Treasure!" corrected Black-Star.

Meme rubbed her hands together greedily.

The black-blooded weapon thought about it, obviously tempted, but still indecisive.

"It's not like we have to _take_ anything," said Black-Star in a convincing tone, "But don't you want to at least look?"

"Fine," said Ragnarok. "Can't do any harm to look, I guess" he muttered.

By that time, the three adventurers had stopped outside the door to Haruhi Fujioka's room. They knew full well that the Witch was teaching Angela at the moment, and not able to catch them in the act, but they were still nervous.

Meme opened the door, and the trio of intruders peered eagerly inside.

"Hey," said Ragnarok, after a moment, "what gives? This place is full of books."

Indeed, Haruhi Fukioka's room was rather cluttered, and bespoke the hoarding so typical of the dragons in storybooks, though not in the actual contents of the hoard itself, it seemed.

"What a rip-off," said Black-Star. "I thought there would be treasure."

* * *

It was a testament to the civility of the Ouran Witches that the four of them had been visiting the Time Wasters' Society for just under a month, and the students of Shibusen had yet to see any significant demonstration of their powers.

Once rehearsals for the accursed play began, however, and they all had to be in regular contact with Tamaki Suoh and his 'Friendship Society', three of the four Witches' powers were demonstrated within a day.

Also, they'd found out who the Clowns were.

Observe the following scenarios for elucidation:

* * *

It was an hour or two before the first rehearsal was set to begin, and the Time Wasters were attempting to conduct one of their meetings in the little-used, but obviously top-notch, theatre of Shibusen... sans the two fairies, Kid, Maka, and Black-Star, who were all doing other things that day.

"Haruhi!" said Tamaki, who had just donned his Lancelot costume and was looking to show off for his favorite person.

"Reading, Suoh," said the Dragon Witch, from across the room, where she was indeed reading aloud to Angela.

The novel in question was "Harry Potter and the Sorcerers' Stone", which both of them found to be a form of escapism. What novelty! To read about a world where magic was something to be envied and merely made one special...

"But, Haruhi..." whined Tamaki.

"What's that, Tamaki-chan?" asked Umehito, in the creepiest voice he could muster. "You want to learn about curses? Why I'd be only too happy to teach you! First lesson: how to dodge."

Nekozawa shot a bolt of dark energy so that it barely missed Tamaki, who flinched mightily and retreated to his corner to grow mushrooms.

The DWMA students were staring at the Coven Leader in surprise.

"What?" Nekozawa asked.

"All right," said Excalibur. "I give up. What kind of animal has the power to do _that_?"

"Oh," said Nekozawa in realization. "I suppose that, even after all this time, we still haven't been properly introduced, have we?"

The Shibusen students exchanged intrigued glances.

"Nekozawa Umehito, at your service," he said, giving a small bow. "Panther Witch, and leader of the Ouran Coven."

Then, with a wicked grin, he became a gigantic black feline, and then proceeded to stalk his way over to where Tamaki Suoh was huddled in the corner, stopped a meter away from the terrified blond, and deliberately walked in a quarter-circle of floor that was Suoh's only avenue of escape.

"Nooooo..." wailed Tamaki, when he'd realized what the Witch was doing.

"What?" asked Tsugumi.

"What do they say about a black cat crossing your path?" asked Kasanoda, grinning slightly.

"Oh," she said, turning back to watch Tamaki, who was trying in vain to climb the walls.

"Is he really that superstitious?" asked Tsubaki.

"No, not really." said Kirimi, who had come over to watch. "because ni-san really is able to curse you by crossing your path. If baka ni-san does leave his corner, he'll be cursed with bad luck for the rest of the day, at least."

"'baka ni-san'?" asked Marcus.

"She thinks of Tamaki as a second brother," explained Haruhi.

"Is Kirimi a panther too?" asked Marcus, turning to the Dragon Witch. "Sorry if that's a stupid question, I've never met Witch siblings before."

"Nope," said Kirimi. "Looky!"

With that, the blonde child was gone, and, in her place, there stood a rather adorable cat with white fur.

Kirimi then closed her eyes, and a small, ice figurine took shape between her paws. It resembled Suoh in extreme detail.

"I'm better at curse dolls myself," she said.

It was at this point that Hero's brain stopped working. He looked from Angela to Blair, trying to find the words to articulate what he was thinking.

"But," he said, eventually, "You _can't _be the Cat Witch; _Blair's_ the Cat Witch... isn't she?" he said, with a glance at the purple feline in question.

"How many times do I have to say this," said Blair, a paw over her eyes. "I'm not a Witch!"

"But if you _were_ a Witch, you'd be the Cat Witch, right?" Hero said, still confused.

"No..." Blair said. "I _am _a Cat. I turn into a human," she said, doing so just to make her point; then, she sighed.

"Kirimi could turn into a human right now," said Blair, picking up Kirimi's animal form and stroking her ears. "Would you say that she was the Human Witch?"

Sudden realization dawned over Hero's face. "No," he said. "Because a human is her natural form. So, _she'_s the Cat Witch. And for you, being a Cat is your natural form. That means... the _Human _Witch... is you?" he hazarded.

"Again," said Blair. "_Not_ a Witch, but.. yeah. If I were, I'd be the Human Witch." She shrugged. "But since I'm a Magical Cat, that makes me the Human Cat, just like Belzenef is the Bat Cat."

Hero thought about that, rubbing his chin, glancing from the panther, to the Cat, to the human with purple hair.

"What do pumpkin powers have to do with being human?" he asked.

Blair shrugged. "What do vector-powers have to do with being a snake?" she returned.

* * *

Kasanoda's powers were much more straightforwardly demonstrated.

"—and that is the mark of a true gentlemen," Tamaki Suoh told Soul, to whom he'd been giving unsolicited advice, after finally biting the bullet and leaving the accursed corner.

"Sounds uncool," remarked the Death Scythe.

Tamaki drew an indignant breath, and raised an admonishing finger to begin another lecture, when he suddenly let out a whimper at something he was seeing, and froze completely.

Soul slowly turned around, to see that it was just Kasanoda, who gave an innocent looking wave.

Soul looked back to Tamaki Suoh, who _still_ wasn't moving.

The white-haired weapon waved a hand in front of Suoh's unresponsive face.

"Should I be feeling guilty that I'm happy about this?" he asked Kasanoda.

"Nah," said Kasanoda. "No need, since it's not permanent. You just looked like you were in pain, so..."

"Cool," said Soul. "Thanks."

Soul didn't ask, because he had an image to maintain.

But the other people in the room didn't have such a problem.

Soon, Tamaki Suoh was surrounded by a crowd of curious Shibusen students.

"He's... quiet," said Anya. "How is that even possible?"

"Paralysis?" asked Tsubaki.

"Don't ask me," said Soul, holding up his hands in denial. "Kasanoda's the one you should be thanking."

Well, this time it turned into a guessing game.

"Some sort of Snake Witch, maybe?" Meme asked Kasanoda.

"Depends on your definition of 'snake'," said the red-haired adolescent.

"Poison Arrow Frog Witch?" asked Ragnarok.

"No," said Chrona. "Remember, Eruka's the Frog Witch. Besides, he said Snake was close."

"She's the Frog Witch from _our_ universe," returned Ragnarok. "For all we know, the Ouran universe Frog Witch is someone completely different."

"Fools!" said Excalibur. "Just ask him to transform instead of standing there arguing about it!"

Haruhi snickered. "Actually," she said. "I don't think that would help at all."

Kasanoda nodded in agreement, but he did call upon his magic to take on his other form.

Red scales appeared on his face, his hands, all over his skin, and his eyes became yellow and snakish. Kasanoda's animal form was still clearly humanoid... but had nothing to do with humanity. Humans' ankles didn't bend the way Kasanoda's now bent, nor did humans possess tails. His clothing had changed into a form of armor.

"You're right," said Chrona. "Still no idea what he's supposed to be. So..."

"Snake!" she said.

"Frog!" said Ragnarok.

"Snake!"

"Frog!"

"Snake!"

"Basilisk, actually," said Kasanoda.

There was silence as they all considered this.

"Of 'look them in the eyes and you die' fame?" asked Liz.

"Yes," said the elder Nekozawa.

"Okay then," she said, attempting to take the news seriously and with the mature consideration it deserved.

She almost managed it, but then her eyes caught Suoh's paralyzed form and she broke down into giggles. Patty joined her, of course.

"Poor Suoh," said Tsubaki. "Unrequited love is one thing. Unrequited love to a Witch with two protective Coven-siblings has got to be absolute hell."

* * *

Well, with a pre-rehearsal meeting like the one they were having, the next events really were no surprise.

When the Ouran Alliance members, Hikaru & Kaoru Hitachin, and Hani & Mori showed up, they observed that Soul Eater Evans was playing a gigantic pipe organ, while Tamaki Suoh sang 'If Ever I Would Leave You.'

Not surprisingly, he had the voice of an angel.

When the song ended, however, they were surprised to see the pipe-organ transform into a blond boy who wore headphones.

The Hitachins burst out laughing.

"An organ! What kind of a weapon is _that?_" said Hikaru.

"Oh, man, I can't breathe!" said Kaoru.

For a long moment, Marcus Law did nothing but regard them coolly.

Then, slowly, he removed his headphones.

Hero was at his side in an instant.

"I'm sorry," Marcus said. "I didn't quite catch what you said, just now."

"We said," said the twins, "that your weapon form is stupid."

"That's what I thought you said," he replied, before his arms turned into brass pipes and he banged them together.

"Soul Resonance!" cried Marcus and Hero.

Then, the volume at which the pipes attached to Marcus' shoulders were vibrating increased several fold. Some dust fell down from the ceiling.

Everyone was clutching their ears in pain, save Hero, Marcus... and the Hitachin twins.

"Hmm," they said. "Not bad... for a human."

Then, the two of them began to stretch and change... until they were no longer two people, but a single being: a Clown.

"Interesting," said Hero. "I guess the 'Coven' really does hang around with the 'Clowns' then."

"Or, at least," said Marcus. "Hikaru and Kaoru hang out with Haruhi."

Then, Marcus restored his arms to their human appearance, and the two of them turned to Haruhi. "Your life must be an interesting one," he said.

Fujioka sighed. "You have no idea," she said.

"Hey!" complained the Hitachins, both their voices issuing from a single body. "Don't just ignore us! We wanted to fight!"

Marcus and Hero shook their heads in unison. "We're a Not Class team," explained the meister. "If we were here to fight, we wouldn't be putting on a musical."

"But we're Clooooowns," they said, drawing out the word in a tempting tone.

"Well..." said Hero. "Maybe the Death Scythes will fight with you?" he said, glancing at Soul and the Thompson Sisters.

Patty grinned. "I'm in," she said. "How 'bout you, sis?"

Liz shrugged. "Don't care," she said, transforming.

Patty smiled with such intensity that the Clown actually took a step backwards.

"Let's dance," said Patty, aiming the gun and firing.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the other side of the stage, the Ouran Witches were regarding Hero Swordson and Marcus Law with some measure of respect.

"Most people don't react nearly so well when they learn the Hitachins' true nature," Kasanoda said.

Chrona smiled, wryly. "I can imagine," she said, with a glance at a rather nervous Suoh. "It's almost like someone came here _months ago_ and told us he was from a weapons' rights organization that boasted _Witches_ and _Clowns_ amongst its members."

Suoh flinched at a sharp look from Haruhi as she heard this.

"So that was how you learned about us," Fujioka said, turning back to Chrona. "That's a relief. We've been meaning to ask, anyway. It really isn't common knowledge that Ouran has Witches. We thought there might have been a spy or something."

"No," said Tsugumi. "Not that we know of. But you might want to tell a certain _someone_," another nod in Tamaki's direction, "that loose lips sink ships."

Suoh, however, was saved the intensity of the collective glare by a distracting bout of insane laughter from the Hitachin brothers, who had managed to get in a lucky shot on Patty, as she scrambled to retrieve Liz's weapon from from where it had fallen.

"We're not going to get anything done today, are we?" asked Angela.

"Whatever gave you that idea?" asked Mifune, who stood beside her.


	18. Chapter 18

The room was full of turrets, and the turrets fired at their targets: three silhouettes that could easily have been human.

The trio made no noise, save for the frequent whip-cracks and gunshots that caused the sentry-bots to explode, often with a quiet, 'I don't blame you', or, 'target lost'.

As the minutes wore on, the sound of bullets ricocheting became lesser, and the three shadows were faster and less cautious in their dance.

Then, the lights came on.

Kid, Black-Star, and Maka turned briefly, to see a dozen or two people standing at the Chamber Lock door.

Immediately, the six remaining laser-sights trained on the intruders.

"Target Acquired."

Crack!

Ratatatat.

Boom.

"Ahhhh!"

...and the remaining turrets were as smashed as their kin.

Then, four of the intruders dogpiled on the three who had just finished training.

"Soul!" complained Maka.

"Liz, Patty!" squawked Kid.

"Tsubaki!" whined Black-Star.

The Shadow Weapon smiled, hugging the blue-haired boy she had tackled to the ground. "Sorry," she said, "Me and Soul just haven't been able to do this to you guys since our first year. It's weird, being stronger than your meister."

"Tell me about it," said Liz and Patty in unison.

"Hang on," said the Hitachins, who had followed them on this particular outing. "Aren't you four partners with each other already?"

"We have an _understanding_," said Liz and Patty, still speaking together... just to make the point that the Hitachins weren't the only ones who possessed that talent.

"Shut up!" said Maka and Black-Star, who weren't even trying to speak simultaneously.

"Why are you here, anyway?" asked Kid.

Team Death Scythe smirked.

"You're going to be in our play," said Patty.

"Sir Tristan," she pointed at Black-Star.

"Sir Galahad," pointed at Maka.

"And Mordred," a gesture in Kid's direction.

Then,

"... what?" asked the three.

* * *

The classic example on behavioral conditioning is, of course, Pavlov's dog, which is a canine taught to associate the ringing of a bell with the delivery of meat—even to the point where they'd begin to salivate at the sound, even if no food were present.

In similar vein, Belzenef, after the first few attempts of trying to report on Blair's progress in creating a Death Scythe, began to develop a headache every time he so much as thought of the Death Scythe dimension.

That the Human Cat was deliberately antagonizing him was a certainty. There was just no way he could call upon her four different times at four random intervals and find her making all possible efforts to slack off in every single instance.

When it happened again for the fifth time, and he walked in on her wearing a scandalous outfit and singing a duet with her weapon, he'd seriously considered losing his patience.

"Blair," sighed the Cat of Chiroptera. "Is there any point in even asking?"

"Hiya Belzy!" she said. "Can you believe I got the part of Morgan le Fay?"

"Yes," he said, "Yes, I can. What I cannot believe is that you would accept it. Do you really think this is the time for theatre?"

"Hey," said the Shinigami, "That's being a little harsh, you know. I've already consumed six souls!"

"Six souls in four months," said Belzenef. "At this rate, you'll make Death Scythe only a few years after the Council executes your partner."

"Hear that, Kid?" said Blair. "We're making progress!"

* * *

After a few minutes more of putting up with idiocy, Belzenef sighed and flew up to the rafters, where it was relatively sane.

He was shocked to see someone else already there.

"Hello," said a black panther, whom Belzenef knew to be Umehito Nekozawa. "Come to watch the mere mortals scurry back and forth like ants?"

He considered rejoining the insanity below. But, honestly? What with all the devil-may-care Cats and the cheshire-cat-smile Shinigami around, the reclusive Panther Witch just might win the prize for 'most lucid person in the room'.

"Of course," replied Belzenef, settling down and folding his wings for what was sure to be a long and pointless hour.

* * *

As it turned out, bringing Kid into the production wasn't the best thing for efficiency. With a Shinigami around to annoy and insult, the Hitachin Clowns weren't as inclined to work; it was fully five days of arguing before they could get anywhere near the normal amount of practicing done.

Of those five days of conflict, the following instances represent the highlights:

* * *

Kaoru shuddered. "I don't see how you can stomach working with Shinigami," he said to the blonde girl and blue-haired boy who were usually with the death-god.

Black-Star's only response was a one-fingered salute.

Maka, on the other hand, decided to try reason.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"'Oh look, mommy. Grandma died and that's the guy who did it'..." said Hikaru, in a much higher voice than normal.

"'Hush, stupid child," said Kaoru, taking on a falsetto tone. "or the nasty Shinigami will come for you too!'"

"He's Death," said Hikaru, returning to his normal tone of voice. "I think the reasoning is pretty self-explanatory."

Black-Star morphed his arm into a bazooka barrel and leveled it at the Hitachins.

Maka pushed it out of the way and a blast of soul-wavelength hit the ceiling.

"The most painful wounds are wounds of the psyche," she told him, before folding her arms and making her own reply.

"Well, I for one can't see how the Ouran Alliance can stand working with Clowns," she said. "They're only a step below Kishins, in my book."

"_We_ weren't born from massacre," said the twins.

"Shinigami don't drive people insane as a byproduct of being around them," said Maka.

"You can't honestly believe that some ambient madness is any less damaging than the 'order' those OCD bastards would impose on us," said Hikaru.

Maka made a derisive noise.

"The Shinigami of our world and yours are complete opposites, in nature," she said. "The Death Emperor is that part of dying which is a black and crushing abyss: the somber aspect of all funerals, and the tragedy of a life cut short. Whereas, Lord Death is the light-hearted and liberating aspect of death. The part which thumbs its nose at life. And, In our universe, it is not death, but madness which must be feared.

"For us, madness is chaos, slaughter, and terror: an unspeakable horror under which the Earth itself would break. For you, madness is mischievous and innovative, and represents non-conformity and spontaneity. The insanity of a genius, not of a psychopath. The fact is... though our worlds are alike on the surface," she said. "They are different, down to their very foundations."

...

No one was quite sure what to say after that.

"Where did you come up with_ that_?" asked Black-Star, after a long moment.

"Fact told me," answered Maka simply.

Kid fell over.

"He's even less reliable than Space!" said Black-Star.

* * *

The day after the next, the Hitachins were back with a vengeance, and had managed to get Haruhi Fujioka to do some of their research for them.

"...and since its founding, twenty years ago, there have been no fewer than thirty abuse cases involving weapons at the DWMA," said Haruhi, who wasn't even involved with the play, but had shown up to debate politics.

"We've _tried_ other systems," said Maka, "And this is the only one that seems to work..."

"—whereas, at Ouran, an organization run by weapons, for weapons, we've had a grand total of zero," said Haruhi.

"You've only been around for four years," said Maka. "And you have a weapon-meister ratio of ten to one! There's no way you can compare the two places!"

"So, you're willing to keep using a system which perpetuates suffering when an alternative exists?"

"The greater the goal the greater the risk! How many Death Scythes has the Alliance produced in the last year, then? Five? Ten? Oh, wait... it's two!" she said, pointing at Hani and Mori.

"Actually," said Hani, "We've—"

"We've produced two Death Scythes last month alone!" said Maka, running over whatever it was Hani was trying to say, gesturing to Liz and Patty.

"Why are you the one saying this, anyway?" said Hikaru. "Can't your Shinigami speak for himself?" finished Kaoru.

Kid was standing behind Maka, his eyes somber. "I would rather not argue," he said. "For it seems obvious to me that the loved ones of at least one of you have been hurt by a similar system... if I'm reading the situation correctly, that is."

Haruhi swallowed. She hadn't expected anyone to figure that out. "My mother," she said, eventually, "was a weapon, killed by her wielder."

Maka shut her mouth and turned away.

"I came here to argue," Haruhi said, "not to be pitied," she insisted, trying to goad Maka into continuing the argument.

Kid stepped in front of Maka. "And you're not the only one who's been hurt," he said to Haruhi, glancing back at the Kishin-killer, not willing to speak further without her permission.

Maka mimed passing an invisible baton over to him.

Kid pretended to accept it. "Well, then," he said. "Maka's father, though he was not killed, was partnered successively with not one, but two, unkind meisters. One of whom, happily, has since made a reformation... the other was Maka's mother. He was a rather flirtatious weapon, but that doesn't excuse the meister's behavior."

Haruhi's eyes flashed in sympathy, but she refrained from speaking.

"I am young," he said, "and father knows more of such things than I... but it is my understanding that whenever there is potential for intimacy among humans, there is potential for abuse, as well. If no such cases are documented, it simply means they were not reported, not that they didn't happen.

"The DWMA was founded to standardize the process by which weapons may be protected, and meisters screened for worthiness. For where rules and order dominate, complaints may be whispered to receptive ears, investigations conducted, and dangerous meisters expelled to where they may harm no more.

"Make no mistake," Kid said, "it saddens me greatly that such cases occur at all, that people have grown in such a way as to enjoy hurting others, but would it not be worse to ignore this fact and pretend all relationships are ideal?"

Tsubaki tapped Kid on the shoulder, holding out a hand, asking to be tagged in.

Kid nodded, and high-fived her, stepping back.

"It's true that nearly half of our Death Scythes don't have meisters anymore..." she started, "but have you heard of Vajra Yadava? She was a weapon, swallowed for nearly a decade by her meister, Asura... the man who became a Kishin.

"She wasn't freed until Asura was killed last year," Tsubaki gave a brief nod in Maka and Soul's direction. "And, after so long being literally surrounded by an enormous madness wavelength, people weren't sure if she'd ever be sane again. And, it did take months, but she was strong enough that she recovered, and even made Death Scythe on her own.

"One of the first things the reporters asked her was if she blamed Lord Death for what had happened: for sealing her along with Asura, for not managing to kill him before he became a threat... Well, Vajra just fixed them with a cold stare, and said that for us, for weapons, it is impossible to guarantee safety for those who choose to walk our path, and that this is something every weapon accepts."

Tsubaki finished her speech, and stepped back to stand with Kid and Maka. The Ouran students were somewhat mollified, only argued for a few hours after that.

* * *

Tension was still pretty obvious between the Hitachins and Kid, and the arguments went on for another few days, but they had passed the turning point, by then, and eventually, they settled into a kind of hostile truce; the twins were at least civil. This meant that more effort could be put into the play itself.

What would come of their efforts was exactly what most people would have predicted.

* * *

It was Spirit's first trip to the Ouran Dimension, and he was sticking relatively close to Justin and Azusa, as they walked through the halls of the Alliance's fortress.

Seeing as the Alliance was none too fond of Shinigami (or of most meisters), it was usually the partnerless Death Scythes who maintained relations between the two organizations, on behalf of Shibusen.

Spirit was rather bored. Which wasn't what most people would have thought, given his known womanizing tendencies—and the fact that Ouran was, primarily, a female organization. But, fortunately for Shibusen, though he was many shades a rogue and a ne'er do well, Spirit was not really attracted to those who were clearly girls and not yet women.

Thus, he spent the entire time half-heartedly flirting with Azusa—merely on principle that it was better to be flirting than otherwise—until another woman, who just happened to be passing, had caught his attention.

She had red hair, and a ridiculous dress that was breathtaking blue in color, with peacock feathers sewn into the train. Her eyeshadow and lipstick were both blue as well, and she had a proud and regal bearing about her.

"Well, helloooo," said the Demon Scythe.

"Spirit," said Azusa, her careful eyes noticing several subtle details about this 'woman'. "I really don't think you want to flirt with her."

He raised an eyebrow. "Jealous, are we?" asked Spirit. "Ah, Azusa, you know I'm not monogamous; there's simply too much of me to go around!"

The Crossbow shook her head in annoyance.

'He's straight', she mouthed at the woman in blue, behind Spirit's back. 'And stupid,' she added, for good measure.

"—but if you really like me that much, how about having dinner tonight?" Spirit asked the Demon Crossbow, completely oblivious.

Azusa sighed.

The woman, being somewhat touched by the thoughtfulness of the Crossbow Death Scythe, gave a flattered sort of giggle at Spirit's words, capturing his attention and saving Azusa from having to answer.

"I'm Ranka," she said.

"Spirit," said the red-haired man. "Death Scythe and partner of Lord Death," he said, forgetting, for a moment, that he wasn't in Death City, where such a job granted him status and respect.

Ranka's nose wrinkled in disgust. "A Shinigami?" she asked.

Spirit flinched under the glare Azusa was giving him. They were supposed to downplay their loyalty to Lord Death.

"Well, occasionally," he said, struggling to come up some way to salvage the situation. "Normally, I work with another human, a man by the name of Stein. We were friends all the way through school," he said, lying through his teeth.

At that moment, Haruhi Fujioka and Maka Albarn rounded the corner. After the great debates were done with, the two of them had found they had much in common.

Earlier that day, Maka had even convinced Haruhi to try solving some of the portal-puzzles in Aperture, and the two were currently heading to Haruhi's room, to find a book the Dragon Witch wanted to lend to her new friend.

However, when they saw the people who were chatting in that particular hallway, they stopped and grimaced.

Maka sighed. "...and, he's at it again."

"Who?" asked Haruhi, who was far beyond used to her father's manner of dress.

"The guy with red hair is my dad," Maka said. "He's always doing stuff like this."

"Is he bisexual?" asked Haruhi.

"No," said Maka, having a bad feeling about Haruhi's question. "Why?"

"He's flirting with my father," said the Dragon Witch.

Maka put a hand over her face. "Oh, god..."

Then, Maka turned around and began walking the other way.

"So," said Haruhi after a moment, still following her companion, "You're not going to tell him?"

"Nope," agreed Maka. "Now, tell me more about this book of yours..."

* * *

AN: So, yeah. I think I just made Snowstorm!Maka'sMom a jerk.

Kind of feel bad about that, but it made an interesting plot point, and she never shows up anyway.


	19. Chapter 19

It was early evening at the Death Weapon Meister Academy. Men and women whose manner of dress ranged from formal and sharp, to merely casual, meandered in the halls, admiring the architecture and decorational art of the institution.

At quarter til seven, the theatre doors opened and the audience began to file into Shibusen's rarely-used auditorium.

Spartoi had grabbed seats in the front row and Ox, who was under the mistaken impression that Camelot was a Shakespeare play, was trying to explain iambic pentameter to Kim in a none too subtle effort to demonstrate his intelligence.

Harvar stared straight ahead, thinking of death-knows-what, and looking incredibly awesome while doing so.

Jacqueline was chatting with Meme, who had forgotten that she was supposed to be helping with the setup.

Kilik, Fire, and Thunder were bored out of their skulls already and had fallen asleep in a pile, all on the same seat. It really was quite adorable, but next to them, a 'woman' in a blue evening gown was eyeing them disapprovingly.

Azusa, Tezca, and Vajra weren't there, as they were in charge of security for the night, but Marie, and Justin were, though they weren't sitting together. They had taken aisle seats midway to the back of the audience, right next to the emergency exits.

Perhaps it hadn't been wise for Justin to tell Tezca that he was attending the play, as the woman who sat in front of him had left her cell phone on her seat at just the right angle to make a mirror from Justin's perspective, and Tezca had been annoying him ever since he'd discovered it, replacing the reflection of the ceiling with his own likeness, and using handmade signs to convey his meanings, since he wasn't about to remove his bear mask to facilitate lip-reading.

Spirit, of course, was up on the balcony with Lord Death, who wouldn't have missed his son's performance for the world.

Seeing as many of the actors had been headhunted from the Ouran Alliance, there were a number of members who had chosen to brave the presence of, not one, but two Shinigami in order to support them... even though the play had already been performed once in their home-dimension.

There were, perhaps, two dozen of them, huddled together in a tightly-knit group, Lord Death observed, and they were all weapons, save for one 'Fuyumi Ohtori', who was there with her husband. It seemed Fuyumi was a meister who had married her weapon, as often happened at the DWMA.

The woman had come to greet him on her brother's behalf earlier. She had apologized that he wasn't able to come himself, but expressed hope that the two institutions might plan other such ventures in the future, a sentiment to which Lord Death had responded in kind.

Umehito and Kirimi Nekozawa sat as far back from the glare of the stage lights (and the presence of the easily excitable Ryoji Fujioka) as possible.

Any audience representatives from Aperture were Curiously absent (in the case of Curiosity Core, that is. They were Adventurously absent in the case of Adventure Core, Factually absent in the case of Fact Core, Spaciously absent, in the case of Space Core, etc.), though a keen observer might have noted a glowing orange portal in the uppermost corner of the balcony, which, while impractical for travel of any sort, was perfectly suited for unobtrusive observation of the production.

Now, diplomacy and other affairs had been dealt with, and there was nothing but pleasant chatter and the discordant warming-up of the orchestra-pit, which consisted of a fair number of 'crap turrets', as Wheatley so often called them, along with Soul Eater Evans, who had worn a rather nice suit, and Marcus Law, who resembled a pipe organ more than a human at the moment. Hero was there, as well, since he'd escaped from pre-play preparations, and his character didn't come on for a few scenes, anyway.

Though Soul, being Soul, already knew the score by heart, and was fooling around by playing 'name that tune' with the classically illiterate Hero.

"Da-da-Da. Da—Da-da-Da-da. da. Da," went the notes [Bach's Toccata and Fugue in G-Minor (if you've ever heard anyone play a pipe organ in a movie, or something, odds are it was this song)].

"It's that one song from that one thing," said Hero, recognizing the tune immediately.

"Well, yeah," said Soul, "but that could, literally, be any song in the entire world. How about this one?"

"Da-da—Da-da—Da-da—da. Da-da—Da-da—Da-da—da. Da-da —Da-da—Da-da—da. Da-da—Da-da—da—DA!" (Haydn's "Surprise Symphony"). The final note was louder than any organ had a right to be, due to the turrets joining in, and had caused a sudden silence in the audience.

Kilik and his partners were startled awake.

"No idea," Hero said, "But that was pretty cool."

"Hey," said Kilik, "I was asleep!"

Soul ignored him and began playing "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun."

"Oh yeah," said Hero. "My mom used to listen to this one all the time..."

Thunder's eye twitched.

The next moment, gauntlets ablaze and crackling, Kilik and his two weapons had jumped down into the orchestra-pit.

Soul, for his part, continued playing the same song, a cruel smirk on his face.

Hero swore and backed up against Marcus' weapon form for a moment, gaining his bearings. "Soul resonance," he said. Then,

"Soul," said the blond meister, "you're a douchebag."

"Cool," said the Death Scythe.

"I come home," sang Hero, in his best tenor, a focused expression on his face. "In the morning light. My mother says, 'when you gonna live your life right?' Oh, mama dear, we're not the fortunate ones. And girls, they wanna have fun..."

Kilik had stopped dead in his tracks, looking almost as though he suspected he was still dreaming.

"Hero?" he asked, as the meister continued to sing Lauper's lyrics with a completely serious expression on his face.

"What are you—?" but that was as far as he got before Hero's fist sent them flying back into the third row of the audience.

Then, Hero punched Soul into the fifth row, and the music stopped.

Marcus reverted to his human form for the sole purpose of exchanging a high-five with Hero.

Back in the eleventh row, Justin Law felt a momentary rush of pride for his brother's accomplishment.

To him, it was obvious that Marcus and his meister had worked out a way to amplify the wielder's wavelength without requiring physical contact: presumably through the medium of soul-infused music: that of voice and organ.

It was something that could have been rather epic to watch, instead of moderately silly, as was the display he'd witnessed.

But, more importantly, this meant that Marcus' partner had acknowledged the limits of fighting with a Law weapon, those cursed with impracticality, and the two had devised a way around them.

In the cell-phone-mirror, Tlipolca held up a sigh that read 'Aww. They grow up so fast...'.

After several more minutes, which were filled with equally pointless antics, the lights dimmed and a hush fell over the crowd.


	20. Chapter 20

AN: This chapter is filler, and I'll admit, it's convoluted, even by my standards.

After some debate with myself over how much detail to include in the play, I eventually decided to try my hand at abridging (The original is the musical "Camelot" by Lerner and Loewe... which, itself was a sort of an abridgment of T.H. White's "The Once and Future King"... which some of you may know from the "Sword in the Stone" cartoon, a work also based off of White's novel). Though, whether paring a 20K play down to 7K counts as 'abridging' is really up for debate.

Enjoy the parody-play within a crossover fanfic...

* * *

Playbill

Character, Technician (Weapon)

1. Pellinore, Wheatley (Haruhi Fujioka)  
2. Sir Sagramore, Hikaru Hitachin (Kaoru Hitachin)  
3. Morgan Le Fey, Blair  
4. Tom, Angela Leon (Elizabeth Thompson)  
5. Sir Dinadan, Mitsukuni Haninozuka (Takashi Morinozuka)  
6. Sir Lionel, Mifune  
7. Merlyn, Belzenef  
8. Arthur, Ritsu Kasanoda (Excalibur)  
9. Guinevere, Renge Houshakuji (Tsubaki Nakatsukasa)  
10. Nimue, # 395  
11. Lancelot, Tamaki Suoh (Hero Swordson)  
12. Mordred, Death the Kid (Ragnarok)  
13. Lords and Ladies: # 498, # 853, # 721, Sapphire, Silver, Elizabeth Thompson, Patricia Thompson, Black-Star, Maka Albarn, Space Core, Fact Core, Adventure Core, Curiosity Core

Music: Marcus Law, Soul Eater Evans. #87, # 372, #898, # 546, # 331, # 192, # 743 , # 444, # 605, # 682

Stage Crew: Chrona, Meme Tatane, Anya Hepburn, Tsugumi Harudori

Directed by Excalibur

* * *

This wasn't how things were supposed to happen.

Belzenef was supposed to run errands for the council during this year, put up with the bureaucrats, deal with the deadbeats, then walk away, master of his own fate once again, all of his debts repaid.

He _wasn't_ supposed to get wrapped up in affairs of those other than himself. Especially not those of the flighty Human Cat with her thrice-accursed friends.

And yet, here he found himself.

The curtain rose and revealed Belzenef, messenger of the Feline Council, wearing one of Blair's hats and wondering when exactly he'd agreed to this.

To one side were Haninozuka and Morinozuka. The former held a spyglass and was pretending to peer into the distance.

"Hm," said Hani, who was playing Sir Dinadan.

Mori nodded in understanding, gazing down at his companion in interest.

"What?" asked the rest of the Lords and Ladies, who didn't speak their shared language.

"The coach and four that carries our future Queen has stopped at the bottom of the hill," said Dinadan. "They told us we'd be meeting at the top. That's why we're all up here. Kind of rude, if you ask me."

"Maybe the Queen decided to make a break for it," suggested Mifune, who was acting the part of Sir Lionel.

"That's just silly," said Hani / Dinadan.

"Actually," said Belzenef / Merlyn, "That's_ exactly_ what happened."

"How would you know?" asked Mifune / Lionel.

"The same way I know you won't die in the next tournament," Merlyn said. "Go down and see for yourself, if you don't believe me."

The Lords and Ladies made their way down the hill (off-stage), led by a rather skeptical Sir Lionel.

_Just one more scene_, Belzenef told himself, straightening his posture.

He paused for a moment.

"You know," Merlyn remarked, apparently to thin air. "There are very few women in this world who would be glad to know that a man was spying on them from the trees, and I sincerely hope our new Queen isn't one of them."

"Oh, right," said Kasanoda, who was playing Arthur, dropping to the ground. Excalibur followed behind, not saying a word, owing to the duct tape fastened over his mouth for the duration of the performance. "That's what I was doing," said Arthur / Kasanoda. "Spying..."

Merlyn raised an eyebrow, but otherwise didn't reply.

"Merlyn, what's she like?" asked Arthur. "My wife, I mean."

"You'll see soon enough," Merlyn replied.

"But _you_ already know!" Arthur said.

"Yes, and that's the last you'll get out of me," Merlyn said. "Serves you right for being a creeper."

"Douchebag," said Kasanoda / Arthur.

"Well, if that's the way you feel about it," said the wizard, "you'll be glad to hear that you won't have to deal with this 'douchebag' for much longer. That siren, Nimue, should be along soon enough. Then it's millennium-long nap-time for this wizard."

"Seriously, Merlyn," said Arthur, a bit irritably, "just turn yourself into a bat when she's around. Then her siren-song won't enchant you as it would a human... and while you're at it, would you mind turning me into a hawk? Wouldn't mind one last taste of freedom before the ball and chain gets here..."

Belzenef gave him another one of those looks.

The wizard changed himself into a bat and made to fly off.

"Nice try, Arthur," he said, as he began his retreat. "but I'm not going to help you stalk your fiancée."

Then, Merlyn was gone.

For a moment there was silence.

"Hah," Arthur said, almost to himself, "Shows how much _you_ know, teacher. The meeting of a future wife is occasion which tests character and requires courage. So, naturally, I'm going to run away! That's how you deal with problems: pretend they don't exist.

"But first..." he said, "a song!"

And Arthur proceeded to express, in music of course, his anxiety about his upcoming marriage.

And, well, one song soon turned into another, as Guinevere, played by Renge, entered through a trapdoor no one could remember building, on a platform that most certainly couldn't have existed in Camelot, and sang about _her_ anxiety: though, it didn't garner her as much sympathy as Arthur's opening song had for him. Tsubaki, who was playing Guinevere's / Renge's weapon, stood in the background looking faintly appalled.

Admittedly, there wasn't a dry eye in the house after Guinevere finished singing "The Simple Joys of Maidenhood," but Belzenef was fairly sure that the song wasn't _supposed_ to terrify people to the point of tears.

Dialogue resumed when Arthur and Excalibur fell from the tree, to be discovered by a very surprised Guinevere.

"Oh!" she said, "It's a lecherous tree-man! Those are very rare!" noted Renge in an aside to her weapon. Tsubaki hovered over Excalibur, curiously.

"No, no!" said Arthur, backpedaling. " I wasn't spying on you—I'm your fiancé!"

"Oh," said Guinevere, "pity."

Arthur sighed. "I wish Merlyn were here."

"You're in the presence of your beautiful future wife and you'd rather be with a man? I didn't know you swung that way..."

"It's not like that—"

"—That's so moe!"

Arthur was rather stricken.

"No," he said firmly. "You misunderstand. Merlyn is my teacher, with whom I have an entirely platonic relationship."

"Oh," she said. "Well, you're just full of disappointments, aren't you?"

"Disappointment? I don't know about that, Milady. Merlyn's actually quite the fascinating character. He lives backwards, you know."

"So... you're saying _he_ plays for the other team?" Her eyes grew large and hopeful.

"He sees the future...?" said Arthur, not at all sure what she meant.

Guinevere sighed. "Mundane," she muttered.

"So, then," she said, "you must already know what's going to happen, if your teacher is a seer—whether we'll be happy, what will happen to Camelot, and all that?"

"Well, no," admitted Arthur. "Merlyn's kind of a jerkass. Never actually tells me anything—just goes on about how he knows the future and no one else does."

"Sounds like he deserves to be killed off in a scene or two," observed Guinevere.

"Indeed he does," agreed Arthur.

There was a pause.

"Want to hear me sing about the weather?" he asked.

"Of course!" said Guinevere.

Arthur then sang his heart out about the procession of the seasons of Camelot.

Tsubaki and Excalibur danced in the background, and the Shadow Weapon was a good deal better at it than the Holy Sword, who seemed to think they were performing West Side Story.

Down in the orchestra pit, Soul and Marcus played the most obvious harmonies, with the turrets taking the parts of the string and wind instruments.

That none of the actors besides Tamaki possessed much musical talent wasn't an issue, as everyone had worked with Marcus by now enough to be able to resonate wavelengths with him. This allowed the Demon-Organ to act as a kind of badass autotuner, in addition to playing the main score. It wasn't exactly the most honest of setups, but the results couldn't be argued with.

And that they would perform all of the songs in the play was really the only thing Marcus had insisted upon. Excalibur, being the scatter-brained director that he was, hadn't bothered to make people memorize the script proper; it was rather showing in their performance.

Seeing as most of the rehearsals had been spent arguing, and the addition of the turrets and various others from Aperture had happened relatively late in the production, their efforts had led to what what certain to be... a memorable experience.

Eventually, the Lord and Ladies came back to the main stage.

"Your majesty!" said Hani / Dinadan his voice rising in disappointment. "How could you start a song without us!"

"I'm King," said Arthur. "I can sing whenever I want."

He gestured to the woman beside him.

"This is Guinevere," he said. "And you must all give her your flowers... because I forgot to bring any," he muttered that last part.

A disappointed groan was the general consensus from the courtiers, but they obeyed their king. Lining up to give their roses and irises to their future queen. Some of them, Dinadan included, had tears in their eyes. Excalibur gave Tsubaki a small stick instead of a flower.

"Now, begone!" Arthur said. "I have things to discuss with Milady."

When they were again alone, he turned to his future Queen.

"Here," he said, "read this."

He pressed a rather thick book into her hands.

"What is it?" she asked.

"The Once and Future King, by T.H White," he said, "It explains my background without me having to go into a great piece of dialogue."

"Oh please don't feel the need to exert yourself on my account," she said, with just a hint of sarcasm in her voice. "What ambition the Kings of Camelot must have!"

Behind them, Excalibur offered his hand to Tsubaki, who ignored him.

"Now, now, don't badmouth Pendragon," said Arthur. "He was a King proper. I'm just his rather unintended successor."

"By blood?" she asked.

"By chance," said Arthur. "When he died with no heir, they stuck a sword into a great rock and said the King was whomsoever could pull it out again."

"I take it that was you?"

"The one and only," he said, gesturing to Excalibur, who was trying, and failing, to impress Tsubaki.

"Well," she said. "I suppose there are worse ways to gain a kingdom."

"So, you'll go through with the marriage?" asked the King.

"Sure," she said. "What's the worst that could happen?"

Above them in a tree, Merlyn gave a rather dark chuckle. "Ah, my young student," he said, "you have no idea."

With that parting thought, he spread his wings and flew off.

* * *

When the lights came back up, Belzenef / Merlyn was talking to Hani / Dinadan.

"Soon, Sir Dinadan, my wicked plan shall be complete!" said Merlyn, giving his best evil laugh.

"Merlyn?" asked Dinadan, somewhat freaked out.

"Oh," said Merlyn, "I mean... soon Arthur's legend shall be made!"

"Oh," said Dinadan, "that sounds a lot better."

"Yes, indeed," said Merlyn. "I wish nothing but the best for my student! Why just the other day I... did you hear that?" he asked, as a haunting strain of music began.

"Hear what?" asked Dinadan. Mori cocked his head.

"Nimue," muttered Merlyn. "Well... here goes nothing."

He transformed into a bat.

The music continued, this time with words, but Merlyn seemed to find himself immune to it.

The melody had an otherworldly quality to it, and it was hard to believe the singer was human.

As a matter of fact, they weren't—it was a turret who sang Nimue's part—but the audience probably hadn't realized that. And, unless they took the time to think about what the name '#395' next to Nimue's in the playbill meant, they probably wouldn't put two and two together.

"Remarkable," said Merlyn, "It seems that I'm not affected in this form. Now, the question remains: what to do?

"Should I stay and help Arthur found the round table?" he said. "Try to change fate and separate Guinevere and Lancelot? Murder Mordred in his sleep? And then face whatever uncertain future arises from my rash actions?"

A new thought seemed to occur to the wizard.

"Or I could sleep for awhile and awaken with a clean slate," he murmured. "Free from my obligations, but with everyone I know from this time dead," Merlyn said.

He considered it for a moment.

"So long, suckers!" Merlyn called to Dinadan and his weapon, flying offstage.

"Nimue," he called out, "wait for me!"

And, simple as that, his role was done with. Belzenef tossed Blair's hat in the corner and thought of how good it was to be finished with the whole affair.

He resumed his feline form and padded over to the stage-door. Now would seem to be the perfect time to slip away, before the performance ended and Blair thought to drag him to the after-party, as had happened when they'd performed the play in the Ouran dimension. He didn't want to repeat that in any way, shape, or form.

Still, he'd tried to escape that time too, and it hadn't succeeded. Perhaps it would be wise to hide amongst the audience and leave with the crowd.

And, though he wouldn't have admitted it under torture, there was a small part of him that wouldn't mind seeing the rest of the play.

So, Belzenef, rather than exiting the stage, took his winged form and fluttered up above the rafters and over to the balcony, where he settled down to see the rest of the whole sorry production.

* * *

The lights came back up and Arthur / Kasanoda and Guinevere / Renge were revealed, sitting in a room one evening, pursuing everyday tasks. Guinevere was knitting a ridiculously huge sweater, just to make it clear that she was a woman, who did ordinary, womanly things. Behind them, Excalibur and Tsubaki played each other in chess.

"You know what we need?" asked Arthur.

"What dear?" asked Guinevere.

"We need a gang," he said.

"We need a what?" asked Queen.

"A gang," clarified the king. "You know, a group of people with a common interest and a common goal who work to protect our turf?"

"You mean Camelot?" she asked.

"What else?" said Arthur.

"Are you sure you want to call it a 'gang'?" said Guinevere.

Tsubaki took one of Excalibur's rooks.

"If it's a spade, then I call it a spade, my dear," Arthur replied.

"Why not call it a League? Or a Society? Or, hell, even 'Table' would be better than 'gang'..."

"Jenny, dearest heart, have you seen what the knights of this land are like? They're not exactly paragons of virtue. Any gathering of such people would inevitably turn into a gang."

Excalibur put Tsubaki in check.

"Not necessarily," she said. "As the saying goes, 'power corrupts'. The warriors are only so out of control because they have weapons. Normal fighters couldn't do much more than scratch them."

Tsubaki took Excalibur's queen.

"I see," said Arthur. "We'd need to make it clear that bullying of normal people won't be tolerated from knights of the Table... do we _really_ have to call it the Table?"

"Yes, 'The Knights of the Square Table'. I think it's a lovely name."

"Lovely enough to get my head shoved into a latrine," said Arthur. "It's bad enough I'll be stopping them from indulging in the violence they love so much. If I call them 'squares' I don't think my reign will be a very long one."

Excalibur took Tsubaki's queen.

"Fine," she said, "we'll make it a round table. Does that settle the mademoiselle's worries that her friends won't like the name of her little club?" Guinevere raised an eyebrow.

The game between the two weapons ended in a stalemate.

"Knights of the Round Table," Arthur said. "Short, simple, and with very slight potential for innuendo. Jenny dear, I do believe this just might work..."

* * *

The next scene was almost entirely music—except for the dialogue at the end—and was nearly impossible to misconstrue.

They found a way, though.

The majority of it was Tamaki Suoh, A.K.A Lancelot Du Lac, going on in a melodious voice about his many good qualities, in what was definitely an "I am" song.

When he was finally done, Hero, who had been designated to play Lancelot's weapon in a—probably rigged—drawing of lots, was standing over an unconscious man.

"And that's why you should think twice before messing with me: Lancelot!" said Tamaki / Lancelot. "Future Knight of the Round Table! Upholder of justice and fair play!"

"Fair play?" asked Kasanoda / Arthur, sitting up. "Is that your idea of ambushing traveler in the woods when his weapon is absent?"

"You have a weapon?" Lancelot asked. "Then we must be comrades!"

"You're getting warmer," said Arthur.

Then, almost to himself, the King muttered, "I suppose this is the person Merlyn told me of. He said this fellow would be absolutely pivotal in deciding Camelot's future. Then he started laughing as though his sides would split. From what I've seen so far, I think I can see his point."

"Sorry?" asked Lancelot.

"Nothing," said Arthur. "Come with me, then, Lancelot. I'd like to introduce you to the Queen. You can tell her all about how I was bested in battle."

He paused, as a thought seemed to occur to him.

"Maybe you can even meet my weapon, Excalibur," he offered. Arthur's face had turned away, so he missed seeing Lancelot's horrified expression, upon realizing he'd just assaulted his King. "Anyway," said Arthur, "let's get back to the castle. It's the first of May, after all."

Lancelot stopped where he stood. "What's so significant about May?" he wondered to himself, before coming back to himself and following the King offstage.

* * *

During the next scene, Renge once again demonstrated her mastery of all things unseemly, by delivering a performance of "The Lusty Month of May," that was so spirited that it turned the skin of anyone who heard it into one gigantic blush. Even Lord Death's mask took on a pinkish tinge.

The Lords and Ladies had a good deal of fun doing the most 'modern' dances they could get away with, under the umbrella of 'artistic expression', and seeing how angry they could make Maka's and Haruhi's fathers. Judging from Spirit's expression when Black-Star danced with his Maka, and Ranka's when the Hitachins danced with Haruhi, it was surprising they hadn't leapt onto the stage to save their precious daughters yet.

Then, Wheatley, or King Pellinore, as he was known in the play, entered the scene, carried by Haruhi, who'd been talked into playing his weapon. The Dragon Witch had left the scene only a moment before, and hadn't done more than put a travelling cloak on over her court attire, but her face was nondescript enough that few even noticed she'd been one of the extras in the previous scene.

"Right," Wheatley / Pellinore said. "You chaps haven't seen any moon-dust around here, have you?"

"For what, good sir, do you need such a wonder?" asked the Queen.

"Need it to get to the cake, of course," Wheatley said.

"Oh, I see," said Guinevere, in an aside to the Lords and Ladies. "It's a Knight with mental problems," she told them. "That means we must point and laugh at him!"

She proceeded to do so.

Following the lead of their Queen, all the other courtiers pointed and laughed at Wheatley, who stayed where he was, completely oblivious.

They continued on in this vein for some seconds.

"What's all this?" asked Arthur, entering from stage right, dragging Lancelot over to the crowd.

"Hello, dear husband!" she said. "We were just mocking a lunatic. Would you like to join us?"

"Maybe later, darling wife," he said. "Is Excalibur around?"

The diminutive weapon was at his side in an instant.

Arthur gave the weapon a significant look and jerked his head in the direction of Lancelot.

"Honey," said Guinevere, not noticing Lancelot's arrival, her attention was still fixed on Pellinore.

"Can we keep him?" she asked. "We need a new court fool since our old one escaped, after all."

"Whatever makes you happy, dear," said Arthur, who was watching Excalibur beat up Hero, then move on to the Knight himself, with an amused expression.

When Hero had been left alone, Tsubaki moved over to comfort him. None of the others appeared to notice this.

"It's good to be King," Arthur said, satisfied to see Lancelot in pain.

"Oh," Guinevere said, following her husband's eyes to the newcomer. "Would you rather use this creature for our new jester?" she asked.

"Perhaps," said Arthur, causing Lancelot's head to jerk up in horror. "If he proves to be a sub-par Knight. Until then, he shall be—Lancelot, Knight of the Round Table."

He then shot Lancelot a look that said, 'you're on thin ice, buddy.'

"Ah," said Lancelot, coming to his senses. "This must be the Queen. Wonderful to make your acquaintance, Your Majesty. I've seen a great many women in my day, but never before has such a radiant maiden graced me with her presence!"

"I'm married, you dolt," Guinevere said, disliking this flatterer immediately.

In the background, Tsubaki continued to nurse Hero's wounds, seemingly unaffected the the friction between their meisters.

"I mean, what a vision of loveliness!" Lancelot said, "Truly you are a woman among women!"

"Are you hitting on my wife?" asked Arthur.

"No!" the Frenchman said. He then moved over to the corner of the stage and sulked. "Why doesn't anyone like me?" Lancelot moaned.

"Cad," said Guinevere.

Tsubaki helped Hero to his feet.

"Now, now, Jenny," said Arthur, deciding to be magnanimous. "Be nice. He's new after all. Come on, Lance," he said, good-naturedly. "I'll show you around."

Once he was out of sight, Guinevere turned to the remaining Lords and Ladies. "All right," she said, "Who wants to help me kill that guy?"

Mifune / Lionel, Hani / Dinadan, and Hikaru / Sagramore stepped forward.

"Wonderful," she said, a most ungracious smile upon her face.

* * *

Wheatley / Pellinore and Kasanoda / Arthur were playing a game, in the next scene, while Tamaki read in the background. Haruhi held Wheatley aloft so as to allow him to see the pieces. Hero stood beside the game board, observing the match.

"You know something, Arthur?" asked Pellinore.

"What's that, Pellinore?" asked Arthur.

"Spanish people are stupid," he said.

There was a pause.

"What does that have to do with backgammon?" asked Arthur.

"Nothing much," said Pellinore, "I just felt like saying it. It's true, you know."

Pellinore blinked his eye ponderously before continuing. "I passed through Spain before I came here, you know. While I was there I saw one of my noblemen," said the wandering King, "The Lord of La Mancha, I believe he was called, in the process of eradicating all windmills in his lands, on the grounds that they were dangerous. He could have been doing a million and one other useful things—like helping me find some moon dust—but instead he insisted on chasing fantasy."

"Well, that's odd, certainly," said Arthur, "but—"

"Pay attention to me!" cried Lancelot, effectively bringing all conversation to a halt.

"Lancelot," said Pellinore, after a moment, "you need a hobby. You're really starting to scare me."

Lancelot's expression became confused. "But following Arthur around _is_ my hobby," he said. "And it's the only one I shall never need. For a perfect man such as I is able to focus his whole mind and body on any task to such a degree that even miracles are not out of his reach!"

"Miracles?" said Guinevere, entering the scene. "Rather a tall order coming from the idiot prince."

Tsubaki immediately walked over to Hero and clasped his hand.

"Milady," Lancelot said, addressing Guinevere. "It brings me great joy to—"

"I still hate you," she said, cutting him off.

Lancelot went over to sulk in the corner.

"And I've asked three of the Knights to do their best to kill you at the tournament tomorrow," Guinevere added. "I'm even lending them my weapon," she said.

Tsubaki looked to her mistress in horror, clutching at Hero, pain evident in her expression.

Tamaki left the room, dragging a stricken Hero after him.

Tsubaki started crying.

Excalibur and Haruhi exchanged a look.

"What?" asked Arthur, oblivious to the small drama that was playing out amongst the weapons. "Guinevere, what have I told you about murdering my Knights?" he asked, irritation evident in his tone.

"I'm sorry, dear husband," said the Queen, "but this is one time I simply can't do as you ask."

Guinevere left, hauling a sobbing Tsubaki with her.

Arthur began fuming.

"What good is a wife if she won't even follow your every whim?" he asked.

He launched into "How to Handle a Woman."

And they had to take a short break after that to clean the rotten eggs, mostly thrown from the Ouran section, off of the stage.

* * *

For the tournament scene, they had branched off from the original quite a bit. It represented one of the few victories that the choreographers of Team Halberd had managed to win over Marcus 'we must keep all the original songs' Law. There was no dialogue for this portion, and the three jousts were choreographed to a wordless version of what sounded suspiciously like Joe Esposito's "You're the Best Around".

As far as opening stances went, Hikaru / Sagramore and Hani / Dinadan stood off to the side of the ring. Mifune / Lionel, who was acting as his own weapon, Tsubaki, Kaoru, and Mori were on one side.

Tamaki / Lancelot stood near a solitary Hero.

Then, as best they could in time with the music, Hero fought the team of Mori and Tsubaki, managing to take out Mori in one blow, sending him crashing into Tsubaki, who had the foresight to pretend to be knocked out by the fall.

The fight of Kaoru versus Hero lasted a bit longer, but the result was the same: Hero was victorious.

When the time came to fight Sir Lionel, however, Hero actually struck him down, when he got in a lucky blow. It appeared as though Lionel / Mifune were dead.

Upon realizing what his weapon had done, Lancelot fell into the fetal position of grief for a few moments, before rallying himself and praying over the Knight's dead body.

A beam of light (spotlight) fell onto Lionel's still form, and he stirred, even recovering enough to sit up.

All the Lords and Ladies cheered at this miracle, and began swarming Lancelot to congratulate him. Arthur clapped him on the back. A few of the people even bowed before him as though he were some sort of God.

When he reached Guinevere, he was shocked to see her engulfed in the flames of moe.

"You brought him back to life with the power of your love!" she said. "I absolutely adore a sensitive man!"

"What?" asked Lancelot, terror filling his eyes.

Hero and a surprisingly conscious Tsubaki were hugging each other in the background, unnoticed by anyone but their fellow weapons.

Fade.

* * *

Then, seeing as this was another argument that Chrona and her roadies had won, they skipped the scene where Guinevere sings of her reluctance to fall in love with Lancelot, seeing as their portrayal of Guinevere would never be reluctant to fall in love with anyone.

* * *

In the next scene, it was a celebratory party.

The Lords and Ladies had a great deal of fun making a procession into the dining hall and doing odd, distracting things in the midst of the party.

Lancelot and Guinevere were talking happily.

Arthur was talking to his sword.

"This is a problem, Excalibur," he said. "Granted, Lance is young and naïve, I don't think he even knows what's happening. But still, this is worrying. I think I'll ignore it until I've got not other options."

Excalibur, bound as he was by both duct tape and the script, nodded sympathetically.

In reality, his mind was elsewhere.

He was sure that their makeshift theatre troupe would catch a lot of flak over the decision not only to include sentient weapons in the play (when the original treated all weapons as objects), but also to give the weapons no dialogue at all, when they were clearly characters.

Instead, the weapons followed their wielders around, hardly doing anything on their own or contributing anything to the plot.

But, in all honesty, that was how he remembered things being in Camelot.

Back in the days when his legend began, living weapons were simply seen as extensions of their meister's will. They were accorded more respect than slaves, of course—he himself had nearly been revered—but only so long as they acted according to their wielder's expectations.

Even Arthur, noble man that he had been, hadn't been free from this prejudice, and had thought of the Holy Sword as something which required only slightly more respect than a dog.

And the trite, convoluted story which they were telling did have some truth to it: it _was_ an affair between Guinevere and Lancelot which had split the round table and brought Camelot crashing to the ground, but it wasn't what most people thought.

You see, Guinevere really had loved her husband above all others.

And Lancelot really had remained pure as the driven snow.

Their weapons, however, had loved one another deeply.

Guinevere's weapon had been a Bow by the name of Andrea.

And Lancelot's had been a Sword by the name of Ross.

In those days, whenever two meisters married, their weapons were expected to do the same, meaning Excalibur was supposed to take Andrea as his partner. Now, there hadn't been any relationship deeper than friendship between the two of them, but they were able to play along, for propriety's sake.

At least, they were able to until Ross came into the picture.

What had followed was a scandal which was as avoidable as it was tragic.

And, after Arthur had vanished—turned into a crow, some said—Excalibur had first sat down, had a long talk with Ragnarok, and come up with the thousand provisions for becoming his meister. There was no way he was going through that again.

His first instinct was to avoid any and all meisters, but, if someone truly exceptional came around, he'd partner with them.

That wasn't really likely, though, since the price was so high. Too bad, since he really would like to have a technician again, after all these years. It was rather sad, being reminded of a time in his life which had been so exhilarating and heartbreaking.

Still, this age he lived in now was a kinder one than the era in which his legend had been made, and he was glad for it.

Fade.

* * *

The next scene showed Hero stroking Tsubaki's hair as she leaned against his side.

In the foreground, Lancelot sang romantic songs for Guinevere ("If Ever I Would Leave You"), with whom he had become well and truly infatuated, largely due to the woman's efforts.

"Very well," said Guinevere, "Then, _I_ shall leave _you_."

Guinevere left the stage and Mordred / Kid arrived immediately after. He was trailed by Ragnarok, his weapon.

"Hi," said Kid. "I'm Mordred."

"Are you royalty?" asked Lancelot, unsure how he'd gotten into the palace.

"Of a sort," said Mordred, "though I'm a bastard."

"I don't know," said Lancelot. "You look like a nice guy to me."

"I mean I'm illegitimate," Mordred clarified.

"Ah well," said Lancelot, nodding in sympathy, "we've all done things we regret."

Mordred frowned.

"Do you even know what the word 'illegitimate'—" he began.

Mordred was interrupted by Arthur.

"Hello, Lance," said the King. "Who's this?"

"Hi Arthur," said Lancelot, "This guy's a bastard."

"Really?" asked Arthur. "He seems a decent chap to me."

"That's what I thought!" said Lancelot.

Mordred scowled.

"I'm going to enjoy destroying everything you care about," he said.

"What?" said Arthur.

"Nothing," said Mordred. "Look, can I be one of your Knights? I have a weapon and everything."

He gestured behind him to Ragnarok, who flexed his biceps.

"Okay," said Arthur. "Have fun in Camelot."

He and Lancelot exited the scene, skipping happily arm in arm.

"Well," said Mordred, once they had gone. "I suppose that, even if they don't understand the meaning of my words, they're not entirely wrong: I always did favor the vices."

Then Kid attempted to sing "The Seven Deadly Virtues."

And 'attempted' is probably a better word than 'succeeded', because Kid, while he had many talents, acting was not one of them. You see, he simply wasn't able to bring across the sheer malice and sliminess a good portrayal of Mordred required, giving him a rather weak aura while in-character.

It wasn't enough to break the fourth wall, but it was definitely leaning on it.

Fade.

* * *

This next part was yet another domestic scene between Arthur / Kasanoda and Guinevere / Renge.

Behind the main characters, Excalibur drank a cup of tea, and Tsubaki stared listlessly out the window.

"Dear," said Arthur, "where's the solid diamond back-scratcher?"

"I think it fell behind the golden toilet, honey," answered his wife.

"Guinevere?" asked the King.

"Yes, my darling?"

"Do you ever think perhaps we've lost touch with the common people?"

"Of course not, dearest," said Guinevere.

"Arthur!" said Pellinore / Wheatley, bursting into the room and interrupting their conversation (Well, Haruhi burst into the room, but she was carrying Wheatley). "Mordred's being evil again!"

"Nobody likes a tattletale, Pellinore," said Arthur.

"But he was trying to poison your food!" protested Pellinore.

"Harmless boyish antics, I'm sure," Arthur said, waving off his concerns.

"Arthur," said Guinevere in exasperation, for she didn't much like Mordred. "You can't just put off dealing with problems in the hope that they'll go away."

"Really, Jenny?" asked the King, turning his suddenly intense focus on his Queen. "So, you're saying I should deal with _all _ the issues within my table which need attending to?"

Guinevere blushed. "Never mind," she said.

"Carry on, Pellinore," said Arthur, waving a hand in lazy dismissal.

The mad King huffed a bit, but he did turn around and leave.

"Now, then," said Arthur. "Where were we?"

"Simple folk," said Guinevere, which served as a segue into the next song,"What Do the Simple Folk Do?"

Which was exactly as condescending as it sounded.

* * *

Morgan Le Fay's only scene ("The Persuasion") was one which most productions omitted from the musical on account of it being, well, rather silly.

The Ouran / Shibusen group had included it for the exact same reason.

It consisted of Mordred / Kid convincing Morgan Le Fay / Blair to build an invisible wall around Arthur in exchange for candy.

Yes, you read that correctly.

Since this was their 'acid trip sequence' of the play, the Lords and Ladies, who were also playing Blair's fairy court, had donned colorful costumes for greater effect.

Quite a few of the audience members looked as though they wanted to kill themselves by the end of the musical number, so the Magical Cat and the Shinigami knew they'd done their jobs very well indeed.

The scene ended with Kasanoda / Arthur stuck in the woods, and unable to make it back to keep his beloved wife and his best knight from doing something they'd regret.

* * *

With Arthur gone, of course, the play spiraled rapidly into darkness as there was nothing to prevent Kid / Mordred from exposing the affair between the Queen and Arthur's most loyal Knight.

Chaos ensued and soon France and England were at war.

Lancelot and Guinevere had survived, but now the future was nothing but a black abyss. Mordred had won, and now, there was nothing for Arthur to do but gather his troops and prepare for battle.

* * *

In the final scene of their play, Arthur sat morosely with Excalibur near the supply-tents.

Angela / Tom approached, Liz walked behind her. When Angela had expressed interest in the play, Hani had decided he'd rather play Dinadan and that a real child should have the opportunity to play Tom of Warick

"Hello," she said, "I wanted to become a Knight! You're King Arthur, right?"

"Yes, but why would you want that?" said the King

"I've heard of Camelot!" she said. "I've even got a weapon!"

Liz waved at Arthur.

"And you've heard, no doubt," said Arthur, "of the privileges enjoyed by those who wield weapons and want to take part in it?"

"Oh no," she said, "I've heard about the musical."

"A musical?" Arthur had absolutely no clue how to react to that.

"Yes," said the child, "with you, and Lancelot, and Guinevere, it was awesome! Might for Right! The songs, the fights! And I want to help!"

"How did you hear of this 'musical'?" Arthur asked.

"A wizard named Merlyn came by my village a few years ago. He said that, one day, all that has happened here: the the Round Table, the Knights, and even the war that came of it, will be part nothing but a musical play, put on by students in their spare time."

"All that I've been through..." said Arthur, tears sparkling in his eyes.

He put his head in his hands.

"A production for other's amusement," said Angela, completely oblivious to his suffering. "And I want in on it."

"Well," said Arthur, seeming to gather himself. "A young girl such as yourself—what director would cast you for a Knight? No, come back in five years. Mordred may very well be King by then, but I'm sure he'd take a warrior such as yourself. If, by God's grace, I live to see you again, you shall be my right hand and my sword."

"Okay," she said, "but if this is a musical, then shouldn't you tell me in song-form?"

Despite the gravity of the situation, he couldn't help but smile.

"All right," he said. "Listen well, child."

Then, Arthur launched back into a reprise of the song he'd sang for Guinevere when first they met, the one telling about how nice the weather was in Camelot.

It was ridiculous, blatantly false, and just as cheesy as it had been the first time around.

And when he finished, everyone, even those who would later roast the performance in their reviews, cheered as though trying to bring down the ceiling.


	21. Chapter 21

When the curtain fell and reality reasserted itself, Belzenef was amongst the first to get ahold of himself and stop cheering.

Straightening up quickly, checking to see whether anyone had noticed, he satisfied himself that he was still as anonymous as a Cat could be in a crowd of humans.

With a surge of relief, he caught sight of an orange portal glowing, up in the corner of the room. Assuming he could persuade GLaDOS to let him through, he'd be out of there in the next minute.

Yes, that was true. But he didn't actually spread his wings, or take flight.

Instead Belzenef walked out of the theatre with the main crowd. Not quite admitting to himself what he was doing.

He emerged into a well-lit hallway, and took his sweet time observing the paintings which hung along the walls. He didn't want to get caught up in the cast and crew's antics, but he was in no real hurry to go home, either.

Though there were many things worse than being a glorified errand-boy as a way of debt-redemption, it was certain that, the instant he returned, someone would have some equally pointless task to assign to him. Why not enjoy things when an opportunity for a break came along?

"Belzenef," said a voice behind him.

The tan Cat repressed an urge to flinch. He recognized that voice.

"Hello, Chloe," he greeted her.

Belzenef turned around to see a Cat with dark green fur and yellow eyes, which were only a shade lighter than his.

"My, my, my," she said. "Aren't you supposed to be working?"

"The Human Cat is around here, somewhere," he said, "I'm to report on her progress in creating that Death Scythe for the Coven."

"Unless I'm mistaken," said Chloe, "she was the one onstage who seemed to enjoy candy?"

"Ah, yes," said Belzenef. "Well, I'll go and track her down, then. Shall I?"

He turned and began to hurry down the hallway.

Chloe stayed where she was, but made one final parting remark. "Be careful, Belzenef," she said. "Don't think the council hasn't noticed how chummy you've gotten with these humans. If I were you, I'd keep your distance."

Belzenef repressed a sneer. Well, of course he'd taken a shine to these people; they treated him with some manner of respect. Even if they were slightly worse mannered than a basket of wet kittens.

But all he said was, "Will-do."

With that, Chloe transformed into a cobra and slithered away.

The Cat of Chiroptera walked down to the end of the hallway, making sure to keep his expression blank.

At the end of it, he was glomped by an ecstatic Blair.

"Belzy!" she said, "Come on! You're coming to the after-party!"

He really shouldn't, Belzenef knew.

"Fine," he said.

Because sometimes you just had to think beyond your career.

* * *

The advantage and disadvantage of being surrounded by humans, Belzenef thought, was that their tall stature normally meant that Cats in their midst went unnoticed.

Occasionally, this was useful, as it allowed more easily for espionage. Currently, however, it meant listening to one of the Ouran weapons bad-mouthing the play while being stuck behind her and gaggle of friends, who didn't see the big deal with taking up an entire hallway.

"... that was the most confusing thing I've ever seen!" said a girl with scarlet hair. "Why couldn't they have just cast humans for all the human roles and weapons for all the weapon ones? "

"And the weapons didn't even have any lines!" said one of her entourage.

"Or at least they could have left the robots out of it!" said another.

"Quite frankly," said the first weapon, "it's a disgrace, and I've half a mind to complain to the principal of this school for allowing such an insensitive piece of 'art' to leave the drawing board..."

And so on.

Honestly, Belzenef thought they were correct on all counts, but he had a feeling that creating high-art hadn't exactly been the goal of their conglomeration of a theatre company.

After two or three minutes of weaving through human ankles, the two Cats arrived at the third music room and entered.

Inside there was food, a few streamers hung along the walls, and family had shown up, for those of the cast and crew who had family.

Near the center of things, he saw Hitachins talking civilly with Kim, and Fuyumi Ohtori speaking with Kid. Off to one side, even the Ouran wallflowers had gathered the courage to approach Soul, who was playing piano, to request a favorite song or two.

Tamaki Suoh, who the Shibusen students finally seemed to have warmed up to, was chatting with Maka and Ragnarok.

Chrona was being dragged across the room by Angela, who wanted to show her something.

Belzenef sighed. This was a nice dimension. He was glad the Cobra Cat had left.

Or, at least, Belzenef assumed she had left—until the shot was fired.

* * *

The sound of a gunshot rang throughout the room.

Those with sharp eyes saw that the assailant was an Assassin who'd sniped from the rafters. She was a Cat, one who Belzenef had talked to mere minutes before.

She was gone the next moment, vanishing like a streak of light through the door.

There was a great cry of outrage as Kid—as the younger Shinigami, Belzenef corrected himself—fell to the ground. The Tanuki Witch and the mad scientist were at his side a moment later, frantically checking his vitals.

The Chameleon Witch was the first to run after the assailant, assuming the form of Black-Star—who was running beside her—while she did so.

The Samurai was quick to follow his daughter; Maka and the Holy Sword and followed them.

The Hitachins, Tamaki, Hani, Mori, Sapphire, and Silver were more or less following the crowd, when they left.

Tezca Tlipolca followed as well, because there's no kill like overkill.

After seeing fourteen people rush out after the Assassin, those who remained in the room decided to see whether there was anything they could do for the young Shinigami, since it was unlikely that they'd be of help when so many had left already.

Belzenef, for his part, merely stood there in shock.

This wasn't something he'd expected.

Then again, since this really was Chloe's handiwork, that meant that the Coven had declared the Shinigami of this universe to be enemies, and he was fraternizing with them.

Just like Chloe—to see him and not tell him anything about it. She was probably trying to get him executed for treason.

He really needed to get out of there.

Admittedly, he felt a pang of remorse that he was now enemies with these people. As far as deadbeats went, Blair wasn't bad, and some of the others were even downright civil.

Still, it's not like their understanding would go very far, once they realized it had been one of his people who'd shot their beloved death-god.

Belzenef turned around, and made to leave through a less-obvious exit than the main door, probably a window.

He found himself face-to-face with a wall of black.

"Leaving, are we?" asked Nekozawa.

* * *

"Charming," said Belzenef, preparing to fight.

"Are you sure you really want to go?" asked the Witch, seeming almost concerned.

"You saw," said Belzenef, nodding to the fallen Shinigami. "That was Chloe who shot him," he said, "and, sooner or later, someone's going to piece together that we're the same species."

"Do you really think so little of us?" asked the Panther Witch, almost looking hurt.

"...or that I was probably the last one to speak to her before she went postal," finished Belzenef, refusing to react to what was probably an insult.

"No need to worry about that," said Umehito. "I was eavesdropping the entire time. I can vouch for the fact that she was threatening you and not filling you in on the assassination plan."

Belzenef shot him a sharp look. "I don't know if you've noticed," he said. "But I belong to the Coven's Council, body and soul. I can't be otherwise."

"We have money," said Nekozawa. "Not a lot, mind you, but enough to redeem a debt or two. We'd be willing to help."

"In return for what exactly?"

"Intelligence," said the Witch. "We need to know what that bullet was, and what it did to Shinigami-kun."

Belzenef thought about it a lot, but he realized this was a 'limited-time offer' so to speak, so he thought quickly.

"Fine," he said, taking flight and landing next to Stein and Blair.

"The Assassin was an acquaintance of mine," he told Stein. "She's the Cobra Cat, so whatever she did, it probably involved magic and snake venom..."

* * *

Meanwhile, Tsubaki was standing at a far enough distance that she wouldn't get in the way, but near enough that she could still see Kid.

"Hello, Tsubaki," said Haruhi's voice at her side.

Tsubaki was watching Kim pass out, after she'd used up her magic reserves trying to heal Kid. Stein managed to wrench the bullet out of Kid's chest, but the wound was still dark, and obviously tainted.

"You care about the death-god, don't you?" Haruhi asked.

Tsubaki nodded, not bothering to speak.

Now the Death Scythes, Liz, Patty, Soul, Justin, Marie, and Spirit were transfusing wavelength to Kid from Sid, Stein, and a few other meisters, in an attempt to buy time.

"Would you die for him?" asked Haruhi.

"Yes," said Tsubaki, without thinking.

Then, she took a moment to actually think about it, and realized that 'yes', was indeed her answer.

She wrenched her eyes away from Kid's still unmoving form to look the Dragon Witch in the eyes.

"Why?" asked the Shadow Weapon.

Haruhi took her by the hand and led her over to Kid's side, where Nekozawa and Belzenef were conversing in hurried tones. Kasanoda was talking to Stein, explaining what they wanted to try.

The professor nodded, giving his approval.

The Death Scythes were doing another wavelength-transfusion in preparation, this time with Lord Death as the donor.

Kid's breathing steadied, but the hole in his chest remained unchanged.

"There's a spell that might help," said the Dragon Witch. "A kind of power-transfusion, a bit like what Stein has already tried, but more potent. We think it's worth a shot, but we need you to do it," she said, looking Tsubaki in the eyes. "You specifically," she finished.

Tsubaki nodded.

"There's some risk involved," Haruhi continued, as they reached Kid's side. Kirimi was using her powers to slow Kid's metabolism, as a further precaution. "Not a great amount of risk," said Haruhi, "but it is significant. Somewhere between donating a kidney and donating bone-marrow. In all probability, you should you survive... but there's a chance you won't, so it's easier to ask if you're willing to die for him."

Tsubaki took a breath. She glanced at the Nekozawas, elder and younger, at Kasanoda, and at a woman in blue, Haruhi's father, who she remembered meeting earlier that night. Finally, she looked at Haruhi.

"Do it," she said.

* * *

Haruhi nodded.

She knelt down before the dark-haired weapon and took Tsubaki's hands.

Kasanoda and Ranka moved over to stand at her shoulders, upon which each placed a hand.

Nekozawa placed a palm on Tsubaki's forehead.

They began a slow chant, all speaking in unison, which was entirely unimpressive the the naked eye.

Stein, who possessed Soul perception, was very nearly slack-jawed.

Lord Death's wasn't paying attention to them; his eyes were on Kid.

For a second or two, Tsubaki wasn't sure that anything was going to happen at all.

The next second, she had lost control of her body and fallen.

She really, really hoped that was supposed to happen.

And her last thought, before darkness claimed her, was that she hoped to wake again.

* * *

Chrona and Ragnarok, once they realized there was nothing they could do, had stood very still and quietly throughout the whole affair.

The meister clutched onto her weapon's arm and sobbed quietly about how she 'didn't know how to deal with this.'

And Ragnarok?

He watched.

He saw the unsuccessful attempts at wavelength transfusion. He saw the tan Cat come over and help them. And he saw the Witches converge on the fallen death-god's form, Haruhi towing a shell-shocked Tsubaki along with her.

Ragnarok saw them arrange themselves around the black-haired weapon with an air of purpose; he watched as they began a spell; and he saw Tsubaki fall, though Ranka and Kasanoda caught her before she hit the floor.

Tsubaki's unconscious form was engulfed in an energy of some sort, which the Witches funneled off into a spell that Kirimi was weaving.

When they could gather no more power into it, the small blonde placed her hands on Kid's chest and finished the incantation.

The spell sank into his skin, and—finally—the corruption, which had thwarted their previous efforts and prevented healing, was gone.

It would have been a great victory, if it weren't for the fact that Kid still had a mortal wound, and all their healers had just depleted their powers.

Before they could work themselves into too great a panic, though, a tendril of darkness arced from Lord Death's aura over to his son.

The elder Shinigami was as surprised as anyone to see it happen, but he hurried to Kid's side in case proximity with a familiar energy would help.

It seemed to, as Kid's own Shingami healing-powers kicked in, and all the shadows in the room soon gathered themselves around his wound, shrouding it from view.

Then, there was a flash—not of white—but of darkest black, and Kid's injury, though not healed by any means, was bleeding much less heavily, and had half healed over.

"Someone get me a gurney!" bellowed Stein.

* * *

A few minutes later, after Kid had been ushered out of the room, most of the party-goers had left.

Liz and Patty, though they looked very much like they wanted to go worry over Kid's bedside, were sticking around to make sure the others were alright.

The five Witches were all still conscious, though they were rather more somber than usual.

Tsubaki had woken up soon enough, and when she did, she found that everyone else in the room was clustered around the bullet Kid had been shot with.

"We need to analyze this," said Chrona, leaning against Ragnarok's shoulder, examining the bullet in her hand. Only she and Ragnarok had been able to touch it without feeling intense pain. "The question is," continued the black-blooded meister, "would Stein or GLaDOS do a better job?"

"Stein has his hands full trying to save Kid's life," said Ragnarok. "I believe my sister would be the better choice."

"Does GLaDOS know you call her 'sister'?" asked Chrona.

"With any luck, she never will," answered the Screaming Sword.

"Hang on," said Tsubaki. "I probably have strength enough for this." She closed her eyes and concentrated.

"Uh," said Kasanoda. "You might not want to—"

But Tsubaki had already morphed her arm into a portal-gun and fired.

A portal appeared on the wall, connecting to the one they'd left in the central AI chamber on their last visit, but it was easily three times the size of a normal portal.

"What just happened?" asked Tsubaki, staring at her own arm as though unsure it really belonged to her.

"One of the side effects of the spell," explained Haruhi. "You're actually a Death Scythe now."

Tsubaki blinked.

"... I'll probably be really confused on that point, later," she said, "but for now I'll leave it alone."

She held out her hand to Ragnarok, who took it. Chrona held Ragnarok's hand, and the three of them entered Aperture.

* * *

GLaDOS' voice came over the intercom. "I see we have some intruders. Please wait a moment while I prepare the neurotoxin."

Tsubaki rolled her eyes. "But if we're killed by neurotoxin, you'll never know where this came from," she said, gesturing to the bullet in Chrona's hand.

GLaDOS turned towards them. "All right," she said. "You've intrigued me: what is it?"

"Half an hour ago," she said, "someone tried to assassinate Kid. He's currently in critical condition, and all we know is that they used this bullet to do it."

"He's considerably weaker than a normal Shinigami," said the AI. "a standard bullet could very well have killed him at this point."

"This is no ordinary bullet," said Tsubaki. "Kim, the Tanuki Witch, used up all her power reserves just to help get the bullet out, and no fewer than three wavelength transfusions were performed to clean the wound to the point where it wasn't getting worse by the second, and he _still_ looks like he's going to die. Whoever did this made the bullet incredibly powerful. It's only through sheer dint of effort by many people of power that Kid's still alive."

"And Stein?" asked the AI

"Performing surgery as we speak," said Ragnarok. "The whole event occurred less than thirty minutes ago."

"I'll analyze the bullet, convey my findings to the screwhead or to the elder Shinigami," she said, "We'll discuss payment later."

"Goodbye GLaDOS... and thank you," said Tsubaki.

* * *

Upon arriving back in their own universe, they noticed that the Ouran Witches were still there, and so was Kyoya Ohtori, who must have arrived while they were gone, as he hadn't been at the play or the party. He was talking in quiet tones with his sister.

The two siblings looked up when Tsubaki & co. returned.

"I feel so awful," Fuyumi told them. "It's very likely that that bullet was meant for me."

"Unlikely," said Anya, "Something like that would be overkill for anyone human. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"I'm curious, though," said Kyoya. "His responses sound more like a human's than a death-god's, from what Fuyumi has told me."

"Yeah," said Hero. "Kid's a Shinigami, but he's also a weapon. His powers grow in proportion to the number of soul's he's consumed... which, as of now, is less than ten. It'll be awhile yet before he's a Death Scythe, and has full-level Shinigami powers again."

Hero missed the significant glance the Ohtori siblings exchanged at the word 'again'.

"Anyway," said Marcus. "Let's go set up a vigil."

Those who were still in the third music room (Team Harudori, Liz, Patty, Tsubaki, Soul, the Ouran Witches, Blair, Belzenef) left en masse and made their way over to the infirmary.

The Ohtoris were still trailing after the group of them, for most of the way, as though uncertain what to do.

The Shibusen students seemed to notice this, and Anya, Meme, and Tsugumi dropped back to walk with them.

"We're headed to the infirmary to wait for news on Kid," Meme told them. "You're welcome to come, but don't feel like you have to."

"We'll stay," said Fuyumi. She still looked horribly guilty.

When they arrived outside the infirmary, they saw a number of people standing outside the room, not in the middle of the hallway so as not to block it, and they were rather spread out.

Here, Tsugumi and her meisters stopped.

Marcus Law and Blair went over to where Lord Death and the Death Scythes, Spirit, Azusa, Marie, and Justin, were consulting quietly and exchanging worried glances. They spoke to Marcus, briefly, before he returned to the group.

Blair then informed them of what had happened. Apparently, she and Belzenef both had recognized the Assassin as one of their people. And those who had set off to apprehend her hadn't returned yet.

Now, nobody was sure exactly where any of them were.


	22. Chapter 22

After chasing Angela out of the room, and swearing at the head start she'd gotten on him, Mifune recognized their quarry as a hooded snake that was just disappearing through a jagged starburst hole in the fabric of reality.

The instant the reptile slithered through, the ragged edges began to fuse together and close.

The Samurai was torn at this point, because while he'd like very much for Angela to cease with the chase and remain safe, that Cat had just tried to murder Kid, and he didn't particularly want her to get away.

He was saved from his dilemma when Maka threw Excalibur, now in weapon-form, like a javelin, straight at the rapidly closing gateway. The Holy Sword flew through an instant before the fissure disappeared.

Three seconds later a, much straighter, vertical tear reappeared: a meisterless Excalibur seemed to be responsible for it.

Angela and Black-Star, who still looked identical, tried to go through, but Mifune seized them both by the backs of their shirts and hauled them back.

The rest of the group, save Maka, charged through the portal without hesitation, and the four of them soon had the hallway to themselves.

Angela simply wrenched out of his grasp. Though she was merely starting to come into her powers, she was starting to become strong enough that it was difficult to keep her out of trouble.

Maka had stopped to see what was happening. She realized that Mifune needed help and she transformed, using her weapon form to tie up Black-Star and his Witch doppelganger.

"You know," said Mifune, "I'm not sure which one of you is Angela, but it really isn't a good idea for either of you to go through the rift."

"But she hurt Kid!" protested Black-Star.

"And you're a meisterless weapon," said Mifune. "Besides," he said, "I have a job for you two," he said.

"What is it?" asked Maka.

"If you two will keep Angela out of trouble," he said, "_I'll_ go help beat up the Assassin who did this."

Maka and the real Black Star exchanged an intrigued look.

Black-Star nodded, and he was soon gone, transformed into the long-fall boots, which now adorned Angela's feet.

Maka's weapon form rearranged itself to wrap over Angela's shoulder and around her waist, much like a sash.

Angela, who'd resumed her natural form, tried to make a break through the rent between dimensions, but Black-Star and Maka hadn't trained (slacked off) at the crossroads of the multiverse that was Aperture Laboratories for nothing.

There was a subtle change in the ambient resonance of any gateway between universes that, to most people, was intangible. However, Maka and Black-Star, though they hadn't had much luck in helping people to go through portals made by others, they had shown some aptitude in fortifying gateways against entry.

Therefore, they were making their own wavelengths incompatible with the energy of the other dimension, and keeping Angela from being able to cross the threshold.

"Mifune!" complained Angela, once she'd realized she couldn't bully her way through. "I wanna help!"

Mifune sighed. "If you go back to wait with the others, you can stay up until Kid's conscious again," he said.

Angela paused. She was tempted...

"But I want to go too!" she said.

"You don't have enough combat-training," he said.

"So, if I start training, I can go next time?" she asked.

"Maybe," he said.

"Okay," she said.

* * *

Though it was no fault of Mifune's, Angela wasn't actually as safe in Shibusen as she would have been had she left.

The young Witch hadn't gone down two hallways before she was accosted by another Witch, one who belonged to neither Shibusen nor Ouran, and dragged through a rent in reality similar to the one she'd just tried to go through.

Angela hadn't had time to react and, Maka and Black-Star tried the same trick they'd used before to keep Angela within their own dimension. Though, they were forced to cease their efforts, when the Witch assumed Angela was the one thwarting her efforts and twisted the younger Witch's arm.

"Finally!" said the white-haired Witch, after she threw Angela to the floor of the room they found themselves in, once they'd crossed into the new dimension. "Do you know how long I've been looking for a Witch?" she asked.

"But... aren't you a Witch?" Angela asked, who wasn't overly intimidated.

"Yeah," said the Witch. "Right, sister. Hmm... you're still so young. You can't have come into your full powers yet."

"I wanna go home now," said Angela.

"Sorry," said the Witch. "I'm afraid I need your soul," she said.

"... what?" asked Angela.

"Well..." said the Witch, ignoring her. "I guess there's no helping it," she said.

Then, the Witch held out her arm and it became a gauntlet with which she punched, apparently, empty air.

Though, they ceased to think of it as 'empty air' when reality ripped, revealing a forest.

This kind of thing seemed to be happening a lot, lately.

Though, the Chameleon Witch had to admit, this was the first time she'd seen someone who was both Witch and weapon.

That seemed to answer her question about why the Witch wanted her soul.

Angela didn't have much time to think on it, as the woman dragged her through the gap and tossed her into a pit, perhaps forty feet deep, watching as Angela twisted about in the air to land on her feet, seemingly without effort.

"Well then," said the Witch. "Seems like I caught myself a kitty-cat, little miss always-lands-on-her-feet. That's good. Can't have you getting out... wait right here, okay?" she said. "The madness wavelength in the woods should help you accept the Sway of Magic and awaken your powers. I'll be back in a few days.

"Then," said the Witch, smiling to herself, "I'll have a powerful Witch's soul and I'll finally become a Death Scythe," she said.

And then the Witch was gone.

* * *

They waited a few minutes, to be sure they were truly alone.

Then, Black-Star resumed his human form, as did Maka.

"Well," said Maka. "That was terrifying."

"No, really?" asked Angela, scowling up at the walls around them.

Black-Star had foregone conversation in favor of trying to climb out of the pit they were in.

"Hey, Angie," he said. "Can you climb the walls?"

"That's geckos, genius," she said.

"Oh," he said. "In that case," he said, "wanna help us get out of here?"

"How?" asked the Witch.

"Be our meister til we get home," he said. "Maka and me are weapons. We need someone with a strong soul wavelength."

"Okay," she said. "What do we do?"

Maka became a pair of long-fall boots. "Well, safety first," she said. "Remember what these do?"

"Keep you from breaking your neck if you fall?" asked Angela.

"Pretty much," answered the Kishin-killer.

Black-Star became a bazooka.

"Now," he said, "We'll need to make some parts of this wall flat, so go nuts."

Angela, not seeing much point, shot some angled blasts at the wall, leaving planes which were flat enough for their purpose.

This caused some falling debris, which she dodged.

"Great," said Black-Star. "And then there's this," he said, becoming a white-plastic device.

It took Angela a few minutes to get the hang of using portals. After she'd managed to get herself up to a ledge about halfway to the top of the pit, the rest was relatively simple and, soon, after falling only two or three times, the Chameleon Witch and her two weapons stood triumphantly on the forest floor, with entirely no clue as to where they were or how to get back home.

* * *

Well, after trying, and failing, to portal into the Death Scythe or Ouran dimensions, or anywhere else really, they started walking.

Unlike Tsubaki—Maka, Black-Star, and Kid hadn't made it a habit to leave a portal in Aperture, since they were more prone than the dynasty weapon to play with portals in Shibusen for no particular reason, and it seldom did them any good anyway.

Even though it would have helped a great deal in the situation in which they now found themselves.

* * *

After a few hours of wandering around in what they strongly suspected were circles, the trio of Angela, Maka, and Black-Star were still no closer to finding their way out of the madness-laced woods, which Maka was doing her best to keep from affecting Angela.

They eventually came across six people playing some sort of sport.

Maka and Black-Star disguised themselves as her sash and shoes, respectively.

Then, Angela, having stowed her hat in a nearby tree (she could leave it if she really needed to), toddled over to them like an innocent child lost in the woods.

"Hey!" she said. "Do you guys know how to get out of here?" asked Angela, in her typical blunt fashion.

There were six of them: two guys and four girls. A pretty brunette turned immediately, eyes gleaming, as she ignored Angela's question in favor of making her own observations.

"Ooh. Kyon, it's a kid. Can we keep it? I'm sure your sister could use a playmate..."

"No, Haruhi," replied a guy with short brown hair and a rather bored expression.

"But, Kyon—" whined the girl.

"No means no, Haruhi. Do I have to call child-welfare services?"

"Fine," she said. "Hey, little girl! Would you like some candy?"

Angela's eyes narrowed. "No, but I'd like to get out of here."

"Don't worry about it, kid!" said Haruhi. Angela flinched at the nickname. "We'll get you home!"

Then, Haruhi began ranting, and continued to do so for several minutes.

It was at that point that a serious girl with lavender hair spoke up. "That's not a child," she said. "It's a Witch."

Angela silently lamented the fact that she hadn't managed to master soul-protect yet.

"What?" asked Kyon. "Really, Nagato?"

"Yes," said Nagato. "My soul-perception does not lie."

"That's a really rare ability!" complained Angela. "Of all the stupid luck..."

"What do you mean?" asked Haruhi, tilting her head to the side. "Don't all Shinigami have it?"

"Shini—" began Angela, completely thrown off track.

"So," said Haruhi, turning to her companion. "Why isn't she insane? I mean, I can see why she wants out of the woods, but just standing next to Kyon should be enough to drive most Witches off the deep end."

"I do not know," said Nagato.

"What?" the other four looked at her as though this were an unthinkable statement.

"Her soul is uncorrupted," continued the violet-haired Shinigami. "But she does appear to have three of them on her person."

"So... I'm guessing you're not going to help me, then?" asked Angela.

"Um..." asked the third girl, a timid redhead. "Why do you have three souls?"

"I don't," said Angela. "I'm just carrying the other two. "Besides. Why would Witches eat souls?"

"Why would _anyone_ eat souls?" asked a guy with light brown hair, suspiciously. "Seems a rather strange thing to bring up."

"... I think I'm just gonna go now," said Angela, sensing that there was a failure to communicate going on here.

"Hang on," said Haruhi. "First hand over the souls. If they don't belong to you, then Yuki can lay them to rest."

The guy who'd just spoken raised a hand, which began glowing red. "I'd do as miss Suzumiya says," he told her.

It was at that point that Maka and Black-Star decided to act.

Maka flashed, changing her weapon form from a whip to a portal-gun, which Angela shot at a patch of flattened grass.

The next second, they were through the portal they'd left inside a cave they'd passed awhile ago and had gotten rid of both portals, cutting off the shortest possible route of pursuit.

Then, for good measure, they walked away from the place for five minutes.

"You know," said Angela, when things were quiet again. "I'm starting to think Mifune was right about talking to strangers."

"Yep," agreed Black-Star. "If there's one thing I've learned from dimension-hopping, it's that all the Shinigami except ours are jerks."

"'Hand over the souls'?" repeated Maka, distaste evident in her tone. "It's like they've never even seen a weapon before. Though if they thought you were going to eat normal souls, I guess I can see their point. But still..."

"And we still don't know how to get out of here," Black-Star complained. "Even for someone as great as I am, this is a challenge."

They were walking, side-by-side along the path, complaining, when Angela's hat fluttered down and landed in their path.

"Hello again," said Haruhi.

"Crap," said Black-Star. "It's portal-time!" he said, shooting one at the ground and dragging the other two with him.

* * *

An hour after Kid had been wheeled to the infirmary, Stein was finished with the surgery, and he came out, with grim face, to inform them that, while Kid's wounds had been stitched closed and repaired as best he was able, there seemed to be some poisoning effect from the bullet. He suggested having one or two of the Death Scythes and a meister strengthen Kid's wavelength, as had been done earlier, as a stopgap measure to give his immune system a chance to solve the problem.

After that had been done, Stein confided in Lord Death that it might take several hours to analyze the bullet, and more than that to come up with a viable treatment. It was seriously going to be difficult to keep Kid alive during that time.

Lord Death was about to tell them that analysis was already underway, when a portal opened just behind them.

Through this portal stepped GLaDOS, accompanied by two smaller robots.

Noticing the eyes of Lord Death and Stein were on her, she gestured to the orange robot, who held a dark bullet with a pair of tongs.

"You may have this, if you'd like," she told them. "As my own tests are complete."

"What did you find?" asked the elder Shinigami.

"The bullet was tailored specifically to take out a Shinigami at full power," said the AI. "Various chemicals and poisons within the bullet prevent the healing process from progressing. Assuming the Shinigami in question is still alive," she said, glancing at them for confirmation, "These effects can be counteracted by administration of this mixture, via IV, over a period of two days," she continued, gesturing to a cooler held by the blue robot.

"I reached these conclusions by—" but that was as far as she'd gotten before Stein had taken the cooler, opened it to see it contained a number of IV bags, and then taken it into the sick bay without another word.

Lord Death followed, watching as Stein swapped out the saline solution he had Kid on for GLaDOS' mixture without hesitation.

There were a few tense minutes, in which GLaDOS decided not to speak, and in which the three of them watched Kid's uneven heartbeat become steady again, under the influence of the new medicine.

"I think he's going to make it," said Stein, sighing in relief.

Lord Death's expression, as always, was inscrutable, though GLaDOS thought she saw a droplet of water roll down the from beneath his mask.

It should have been a touchy-feely alliance-building moment between the leaders of Aperture and Shibusen. However, GLaDOS, being GLaDOS, was regarding the two of them as one might a pair of children who had decided that, yes, the mysterious lump on the floor was food, and that it had been delicious.

"What?" asked Lord Death, seeing her face.

"It's a wonder you haven't killed yourselves by now," she said. "Exactly what part of 'science' sounds to you like 'gamble a child's life on an unverified experiment'?"

"Surely, you verified your findings," said Stein.

"_You_ have no way of knowing that," she muttered in a rather dark tone.

The two of them exchanged a glance.

"Um, Madam," said Stein, "not to state the obvious, but _you're_ the one with the ability to breach any fortress with those portal weapons of yours. I believe I can say with all certainty that, if you meant us harm, the DWMA would no longer be standing. Since the DWMA is, in fact, still standing, I see no reason to mistrust you."

GLaDOS just stared at him. "That's the worst chain of reasoning I've heard from a human in _years_," she said.

She regarded them with a level stare. "I _must_ test," she told them. "It isn't in my nature to do otherwise, but that doesn't speak in the slightest of my will towards _you_."

She looked back as she heard a crash coming from the other room. "Now, if you'll excuse me," she said. "I have tests to run and robots to smash."


	23. Chapter 23

The position in which Maka, Angela, and Black-Star now found themselves wasn't an enviable one: the six people they'd encountered earlier seemed to be tracking them, and it was only through constant vigilance and abject paranoia that they were able to avoid the clutches of the purple-haired Shinigami and her rather aggressive companions.

All three of them were worried about Kid, about what effect the attack had had on their friend, and on how they couldn't be there to worry over him while he recovered (of course he was going to recover. This was_ Kid_ they were talking about). Even if none of them had the slightest bit of medical training, there was something comforting in simply knowing what was going on.

And then, there was also the worry that the other Witch, the white-haired weapon that is, would return.

More pressing than these worries, however, though they were substantial, was the fact that the madness wavelength of the forest was starting to get to Angela.

She was having trouble sleeping, even though Maka and Black-Star had taken to sleeping in weapon-form and matching wavelengths to act as support.

During the day, the Chameleon Witch shifted unpredictably between her normal appearance, her animal one, and the various people she knew.

Today was day three in the maddening woods, as Maka had taken to calling them, and Angela was having one of her worser days.

Maka was attempting, in her own way, to help.

_"How pleasant to sit on the beach,"_ Maka said.

_"On the beach, on the sand, in the sun,"_ said Angela.

_"With the ocean galore within reach,"_ said Maka.

_"And nothing at all to be done,"_ said Angela.

_"No letters to answer."_

_"No bills to be burned."_

_"No work to be shirked."_

_"No cash to be earned."_

_It is pleasant to sit on the beach."_

_"With nothing at all to be done,"_ finished Angela

_"How pleasant to sit on the beach..."_ said Angela, starting this time.

Memorizing poems and rote memory-exercises did seem to have a calming effect on the young Witch. And the two girls were refusing to play 'I went on vacation' with Black-Star until he stopped saying things like 'booze' and 'pot-brownies' whenever it was his turn.

Despite this, though, Angela was still unable to resume her normal form and had looked like GLaDOS, in human form, for the past half-hour.

"Hey," said the white-haired Witch, coming up behind them (and nearly causing Black-Star to drop a cluster F-bomb). "Have any of you seen a Witch around here?"

"Nope," said Maka, who was actually a decent actress (even if she couldn't sing to save her life). "Are there Witches around here?" Maka asked. "This might be a good hunting ground for us, if so."

"Are you Witch hunters?" asked the Witch (who didn't know that they knew she was a Witch).

"Of a sort," said Maka, turning her arm to a portal-gun. "We're weapons, seeking to become Death Scythes. We're a long way from getting a Witch's soul, though."

"The Witch is all I have left," the white-haired woman informed them, her tone smug. "I saw one, not two days ago."

"Probably time to go hunt pre-Kishins somewhere else, then," said Black-Star. "We're not powerful enough to take out a Witch yet."

"Yes," said the Witch, looking at something that had made a noise, off in the underbrush.

"Well," we won't keep you," said Maka. "Good hunting to you," she said.

"And to you," said the woman.

They waited a good ten minutes before speaking.

"That was lucky," said Black-Star.

* * *

Their luck didn't hold.

As the day wore on, and they wandered around, looking for a way out of the woods, Angela grew progressively less and less responsive, until she didn't seem able to see or hear her two companions.

So Maka and Black-Star decided to stay up and talk to the young Witch, in the hopes of bringing her out of it.

They spoke of Shibusen, Mifune, anything they could think of.

The two weapons even worked themselves into a few arguments just to see if that would help.

But, as the hours wore on and the night grew darker, they were less and less optimistic about their chances of helping.

* * *

From Angela's point of view, it seemed as though the world were gradually fading away, and being replaced with a darkness that was shot through with color.

These streamers of not-quite light that danced within her mind arranged themselves in disconcerting patterns and wore at her nerves.

At first, the worst part of the whole experience was that blinking had no effect on what she was seeing. Normally reality, no matter how horrifying, could be at least momentarily interrupted by shuttering the eyes.

That did no good to her now. She could feel when her eyes were open, and when they were closed. She could feel the ground beneath her feet, but she couldn't see anything except for the patterned abyss, and she couldn't hear anything but a dull ringing.

And she was helpless against it.

For a few minutes, she tried to be strong, to remember that this wasn't real, and that the darkness, what she was almost certain was the Sway, couldn't do anything to her unless she accepted it as part of herself.

Though, from the way it surrounded her, and pressed in against from all sides, she wasn't entirely sure that she wouldn't be crushed before all was said and done.

This made remaining calm a good deal harder to contemplate.

More fear.

Stronger darkness.

Which bred more fear.

Which, in turn, strengthened the obscurity.

And then, when she was starting to worry that she'd gotten herself into an irreversible feedback loop, she turned around, in the hopes that she'd be able to hide somehow, and she saw points of blue in the darkness.

There were two of them and, unlike the seizure-inducing meander-lights, these two pulsated in a steady, reassuring tempo that was much like a heartbeat.

Desperate for something benign, Angela took off at a run towards them.

When she got closer, she saw that they were two souls, both blue and uncorrupted; one had small nubs on the sides which could have been wings.

Black-Star and Maka.

* * *

The sight of two familiar souls was a welcome one, and Angela practically embraced the two, drawing them to her chest like they were stuffed animals.

And, finally, she could think.

No luck with being able to see or hear the real world, but the presence of such familiar wavelengths allowed her to think around her current situation, to some degree.

_Great_, thought the Witch._ How an I supposed to get out of this?_

She considered this for a moment.

"Sway of Magic," she said, "I refuse to accept you."

Nothing happened.

"I reject you and all you stand for," she said.

Nope.

"Huh," she said. "I thought that would work."

For an hour or two, she merely sat there, trying to think of ideas.

Eventually, it occurred to her that perhaps she should look around this realm in which she found herself.

She rose to her feet and took a step, but soon found that she couldn't take Maka and Black-Star's souls more than a step or two from their original positions.

If she wanted to explore, she would have to leave them behind.

Angela flinched at the very thought and stood for another few minutes in indecision.

Then, slowly, she let go of the souls, and took a step away.

It became harder to focus, but, since she had already decided that exploring was her goal, she didn't particularly need higher-reasoning skills.

She walked a wide circle around where the souls of her friends were, in an effort to learn more about her surroundings.

Then, before she could sink into despair again, she went back to the two souls to evaluate her observations.

The oppressive darkness was not of consistent density. That is, there were places where it was thicker than others.

Even while here, under the protection of her two friends, she could feel it.

There was likely a source or a nexus which she would have to confront in order to get out of there.

At least, assuming things worked like they did in movies.

* * *

Several more expeditions, followed by ample recovery time spent with the souls of her friends, gave her some semblance of understanding about this place. It had taken her eyes awhile to adjust, but the ground on which she found herself was the ground of the forest in which she was, in reality. The patterns of color took the shapes of animals, trees, insects, rocks, and other things that woods might hold. The disconcerting part was that they refused to stay normal shapes or to remain in scale with each other.

And the source of the madness was two-fold.

She had to walk a mile or two to find it, but find it she did.

They were two souls, much like Maka and Black-Star's, but these were not human, nor weapon, but were utterly intimidating.

One was a sort of violet-orange that didn't seem to speak of either purity or corruption, but merely of power. Madness and power.

The other was one she didn't get a good look at until her third trip to observe, since each time before the madness-soul had occupied her full attention.

The other, as it turned out, was also a madness soul. It was blue-black and it exuded insanity, though of a different frequency. This soul didn't overwhelm her as did the other.

Cautiously, as she clearly didn't recognize this person, she walked so that the indigo soul was between her and the madness orb, which some poor being must have called a soul.

It wasn't as peaceful as being with Black-Star and Maka's wavelength, but it was good enough to count as a base camp, or a post of observation, while she looked over the source of all her troubles.

Was she supposed to destroy it? she wondered. Rip it to shreds and rid the world of its evil?

The blue soul, though, didn't seem to mind its presence. In fact, it was drawing strength from the lighter one as though it were a sun, or a symbiote's host.

But, how was it possible to take in the madness without having it consume oneself?

She thought on this for a long time, and her thoughts drifted, as thoughts often do.

She thought of her companions, and her home, and how much she wanted to see Mifune, and Tsubaki, the Witches, and even all the other idiots from Ouran again.

A scene flashed before her eyes from her own memory.

"For you," memory Maka told the Hitachin Clowns, "Madness is innovative."

Perhaps there was a way she could grow used to this madness?

Angela paused. This was a dangerous thought.

Was she falling to the Sway?

"The Sway of Magic is darkness and corruption," she remembered Haruhi saying. "The way it hurts you is to convince you that you, yourself are already evil."

She tilted her head. The mad soul was more like a force of nature than a person. The Chameleon Witch got the feeling that these two souls didn't care much about her, one way or the other. In comparison with their power, Angela was as nothing. They had no interest in either her corruption or her redemption.

"The Sway of Magic is power," said Kim, in her mind.

"But this isn't a temptation," she said to herself. "It's a storm, an atmosphere. A current...

"A current that I don't actually need to fight," she considered.

For Angela realized that fighting it was what she had been doing all along. That was why she couldn't see anything, there was no way to get away from the madness wavelength save disappearing inside her own head. And even that offered precious little respite.

What would happen if she let herself acclimate to this wavelength? she wondered. Maka and Black-Star seemed to have been alright.

And she was certainly no good to either of them if she was unconscious.

Perhaps this was what the Sway of Magic wanted her to do, she considered.

"But I really have no other ideas," she admitted.

She debated with herself for a good while longer, but, eventually, she stepped from behind the benign dark soul to face the light one which reeked of insanity.

She felt the soul's terrifying radiance wash over her, but she let it, steadying herself within her own mind to remain aloof and self-controlled.

Angela took a step towards the soul.

The madness pressed closer around her.

Another step.

She couldn't think, couldn't reason, and she really, really wanted to back off.

One final step, and she was inches away from the source of madness.

Angela poked the soul with a finger. "I'm not afraid of you," she said.

For five, ten seconds, nothing happened.

After that, the darkness shattered, and—finally!—when she opened her eyes, Angela saw Maka and Black-Star, in the flesh rather than the soul.

* * *

She was seated on Black-Star's lap and the two weapons were bleary-eyed and close to hopeless.

"—pirated dvd, a t-shirt, and some booze," Black-Star was saying.

"I went on vacation," said Maka, "And I brought back a postcard, a cell phone, an ancient relic, a poisonous snake, a geode, a kick-ass pirated dvd, a t-shirt, some booze, and a miniature replica of the Eiffel tower."

"Guys?" asked Angela.

"Angela!" the two of them turned to her with relieved eyes.

"When did it get dark?" wondered the Witch.

"When it normally does," said Black-Star. "You've been out of things since before sundown and now its maybe four in the morning."

"Are you okay?" asked Maka.

Angela thought about it, feeling about for the madness wavelength which had irritated her so before.

Now, it was nothing more than a buzzing in the background, and her power reserves were full, shockingly full. Though she hadn't noticed it, resisting the wavelength had drained her powers almost to the point of losing consciousness, and now they were back with a vengeance in spite of, or actually, probably because of the wavelength.

"Surprisingly," she said. "Yeah."

* * *

AN:

Don't own Pretty Halcyon Days by Ogden Nash, or those characters from The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya, either.

And yeah, I kind of just felt like writing a bizarre dream sequence. If I figure out what it means, I'll explain it in a later chapter.


	24. Chapter 24

AN: Spoiler Warning for The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya from now on.

Not that I'm following the same plot as the series: just like with Portal/Ouran/any other series I include, this is a Soul Eater version of the characters.

* * *

When Mifune arrived back in his home-dimension, it was with the air of a man who had done a job and done it well.

It was especially nice since he hadn't actually needed to do anything.

Not that he wasn't capable of taking out a few Magical Cats, mind you, but with three Death Scythes (Tezca, Hani, and Mori), a sentient weapon (Excalibur), and two brawling-drunk fairies, there really hadn't been much left to do, by the time he got there.

Even though the Cobra Cat had apparently run straight back to her Coven-nest, which contained a good thirty other cats, Mifune, who'd entered the dimensional rift no later than two minutes after everyone else, had walked into a room full of unconscious bodies, which he was oh-so-generously nominated to carry back to Shibusen's prison cells (Of course they had a prison, where else would they put the people who tilted their soup-spoons towards themselves during meals?).

When he was done with the procedural details (since he was the one to lock them up, he was the one stuck with the paperwork), and made his way over to the hospital (yep, a full-blown hospital). Mifune found very few people there, but those who were were deeply worried.

"Is Kid alright?" he asked the first familiar face he came across.

"Oh, Mifune," said Anya. "Kid's fine, but—have you seen Angela?"

The swordsman froze.

"She didn't come back with those who went after the Assassin, half an hour ago, and we've been scouring the Academy for her since. We had hoped she was with you, but..." she trailed off, hopelessly.

"Maka and Black-Star were with her," the Samurai said. "They were supposed to keep her out of trouble, though all three wanted to go after the Assassin. I suppose I shouldn't have trusted them to be responsible." The thought depressed him. It would have been nice to have some reliable babysitters.

The swordsman tightened his belt. "I'm going to go check the other dimension," he said.

* * *

They didn't find any trace of the missing trio in either the Death Scythe dimension or the Feline one. They even checked the Ouran Alliance.

According to GLaDOS, neither Maka, nor Black-Star, nor Angela had passed through Aperture.

Leaving those in Shibusen to contemplate the frightening possibility that the three missing kids were in another universe altogether, one completely unknown to any of their contacts.

Well, either that or they'd gone joyriding.

Either way, they needed to get those three back.

* * *

All in all, their time in the maddening woods had been a bit anticlimactic after Angela's semi mental-breakdown, during which she kept insisting Maka and Black-Star really had helped her come out of it.

Maka and Black-Star kept rolling their eyes and saying, 'sure we did'.

Though they did shut up after Angela managed to turn herself invisible.

"... what exactly happened when you were zoned out?" asked Black-Star, when they'd managed to spot their small companion again, after several minutes of searching.

Angela shrugged. "I dreamed that I found the source of madness in the forest, accepted that it wouldn't go away, and resolved not to fear it."

"... why can't I learn stuff in my sleep?" he lamented.

"I think it's just a Witch trait," said Maka. "Regardless," she said. "It sounds a lot like a good thing."

* * *

And then, there were the other people in the woods.

After going a week without running into the Shinigami and her four companions, who'd taken to harassing them, or the weapon-Witch who'd brought them to the woods in the first place, Angela, Black-Star, and Maka were beginning to be lulled into a tenuous sense of security.

If they had been paying better attention, they would have noticed that the local wildlife was also ignoring them, which was why it was so easy to catch their dinner, during that time. They didn't though, because they were too busy celebrating the fact that they were getting rather good at keeping Black-Star from eating things to see whether or not they were poisonous.

Anyway, they'd made camp, the previous day, in a clearing and were currently procrastinating getting up, because none of them really believed that another day of following the river they'd come across would bring them any closer to civilization.

Whether they were correct or not wasn't something they found out just then, for, before they'd gathered the willpower to rouse themselves, the pale weapon-Witch had entered the clearing and fixed her cold gaze on the three of them.

"Ill met, Shinigami," she said, looking not actually at them, but over their heads.

She was talking to someone behind them.

And they had a very good idea who.

Maka, Angela, and Black-Star whipped their heads around to see the Shinigami, whom one of her companions had called 'Nagato'.

The death-goddess was looking at the Witch without much emotion, save a faint flicker of disgust.

"Um," said Black-Star. "We can see you're both busy," he said, in a rather pathetic attempt to talk his way out of things. "So the three of us are just gonna go."

Both of the figures ignored him.

Much as not being acknowledged annoyed him, he shook it off with a few muttered curse words, helped Angela to her feet, and attempted to leave the clearing along with Maka and their young meister.

Neither of the two in the standoff made a move to stop him.

The Witch had started bickering again, though it was rather one-sided.

"You think you're so tough?" asked the Witch. "Let's see how long you last against me."

She threw a left hook at Nagato, who dodged it.

"Um, guys?" asked Maka, from the cover of the trees, where they had sneaked a look back at the conflict. "Is is just me or did they totally not even see us?"

They both turned to the only Witch in their party.

"Whatever you're doing," advised Black-Star, "Don't stop doing it."

"Okay," said Angela.

Maka spoke next. "Should we help one of them?" she asked, after a moment, looking at the fairly even fight going on between the two people in the clearing.

"I vote we get the fudge out of Dodge," said Black-Star, who'd long-since learned to censor his expressions around Angela. "Much as I'd love to grace this battlefield with my divine presence, Mifune will kill us if Angela gets hurt."

"Why would we help anyone but the Shinigami, anyway?" asked Angela.

"Well, there's the possibility that we could help the Witch take out the death-god, and then kill the Witch while she's weakened," explained the Kishin-killer. "That would kill two birds with one stone."

"But that's _complicated_," complained Black-Star.

"Or," said Angela. "We could help the Shinigami take out the Witch, who we already know is our enemy."

"The death-god didn't seem to like you too much," cautioned Black-Star. "She could just as easily decide we're her enemies and turn on us."

Angela glanced over at the fight, which was starting to heat up, as the Witch began to use her magic, but hadn't revealed her weapon-form yet.

"Let's help the death-god," said Angela. "Don't know how long I can keep this invisibility thing up, since I'm not really sure how I'm doing it, but we might as well use it for something."

Since the only person in the conflict they would seriously consider caring about was a Shinigami, the three of them hadn't felt much guilt in taking a minute or two to consider the situation.

As it turned out, they really hadn't missed much.

Nagato, it seemed, was a defensive fighter, and she'd spent the entirety of the battle dodging the Witch's blows, leaving her opponent more and more frustrated, as things progressed. Or, rather, failed to.

"Honestly, 'Nagato' looks like she's doing fine to me," observed Maka. "But I guess it's still worth it, if we wind up gaining a possible ally."

She ran between the two opponents and stuck out her tongue at the Witch, without receiving any sort of acknowledgment of her presence.

"And we really are invisible, I guess," said Angela.

"And inaudible," said Maka.

"I'm awesome," said Angela.

"You're learning, squirt," said Black-Star with a grin, shooting a blast of soul wavelength at the Witch to distract her, and then portaling himself and the young Witch to the other side of the clearing, in case the magic-user had been paying enough attention to track where the attack had come from.

As it turned out, she had, and the tree that Angela and Black-Star had hidden behind, mere moments before, burst into flames.

While the white-haired magic-user was distracted, Maka wrapped her weapon-form around the Witch, pinning her arms to her sides.

Then, panicking, the Witch wrenched free and punched a hole through to some other dimension, to make an escape route, using her partially transformed fist—but Maka had coiled around her with a more sure grip this time, and the tear slowly re-formed itself into innocuous air.

The Witch tried to escape using her animal form, which was that of an albino deer.

However, Maka simply tied the animal's legs together, and that was that.

Nagato, in a fashion typical of the stoic personality she'd demonstrated thus far, took the seemingly epic fail of her attacker in stride, and muttered a few words which caused the Deer Witch's struggles against Maka's binds to cease.

The Demon Whip returned to her human form and walked over to Angela and Black-Star.

The deer remained motionless and prone on the ground.

Then, the three breathed a sigh of relief.

They'd accomplished their endeavor and none of them were so much as injured. It seemed as though things had gone exactly according to plan.

Except for the fact that they were still invisible, that is.

"Great," said Black-Star. "I do something worthy of praise and adoration, in true Black-Star fashion, and the fortunate recipient of my largess can't even bother herself to thank me."

"To be fair," said Angela. "She can't see us, and thus probably can't even imagine someone of your magnificence deigning to help her."

"True," said Black-Star.

Maka groaned.

"We seriously need to find a way to get back home," she said. "Or else you two are going to drive me insane."

After waving a hand back and forth in front of Nagato's unresponsive face, Maka shook her head. "She can't see us, either" she said. "Which is useful, I guess. Invisibility's a pretty cool power for a Chameleon Witch, right?"

"Can't wait to show Kirimi," said Angela.

Then, the trio ambled out of the clearing and moved deeper into the woods.

When they were out of sight, Nagato remained, staring straight ahead, as she'd been doing ever since her alteration of data to capture the white-haired Witch.

The death-goddess turned her head to stare at where the three of them had disappeared into the woods.

"Interesting," was all she said.

* * *

The next day:

Under a tree, not too far away from where the rest of the SOS Brigade was examining a particularly mysterious monument left by some ancient civilization, a short girl with light purple hair who held a novel under one arm, and a guy with a listless expression, sat companionably under a tree.

Though they both looked it, neither was human, and, to be honest, their personalities weren't all that similar, even if they were friends.

* * *

Yuki Nagato's Perspective:

Yuki was not the most talkative of people, and that personality trait only gave her more time to think, for which she was glad.

As a Shinigami, her job was a bureaucratic one, but that wasn't entirely to her disliking. In fact, she was rather satisfied with her little niche in this world.

She was also a team-player, even if she did only speak a hundred words a day, on average. Suzumiya, being the force of nature that she was, was largely unfathomable to the book-loving death-goddess—but that didn't mean Yuki couldn't get in touch with those who understood the ever-hyper Haruhi.

Which was part of the reason why she was talking with Kyon right now.

"What's up, Nagato?" asked the being who looked like nothing so much as an ordinary high school student.

He wasn't, though.

He really, really wasn't.

The guy looked so innocent and, honestly, more than a little apathetic, it was hard to believe he was a Kishin.

As a Shinigami, she really should have killed him and Suzumiya both, when she'd learned of their existence, but...

Cliché as it seemed to admit it, they were different.

* * *

Kyon had come first, of course. Nagato knew nothing of his human life, nor what had caused him to lose his humanity and become a god of madness. Such hadn't been her job, after all. She was a Shinigami, and madness had always warred with order.

And Nagato loved order. In her mind, it was manifested by nothing so well as by a perfectly alphabetized library, or an elegant piece of computer code: in a well-thought-out life followed by a carefully-considered death.

Though, from what she'd seen in her glimpses of the afterlife, while conveying souls there, it seemed to be a most unordered place, in and of itself.

All the more reason to make the process of death as regulated as possible.

But madness. Madness was... messy. It was what bred serial killers, blood-feud, and war.

And, though she wasn't particularly strong in the empathy department, Nagato was... concerned... for the humans over whose deaths she presided.

So reducing the number of Kishins in existence was nothing more than a habitual requirement for the Shinigami.

And thus, when she'd learned of the existence of yet another of those madness-deities, it had been with nothing more than a sigh that she'd proceeded to track down and observe the monster while it was unaware of her.

Only to find that it was not alone.

Now, this wasn't altogether unexpected. After all, being a Kishin and killing humans went along together like bureaucracy and nervous breakdowns.

What was surprising... what was surprising, actually, was not so much one particular observation as the whole panorama.

For one, the Kishin still looked human, and was deceptively ordinary. Over the top of her novel, she'd observed, across the room, as it stood there, lucid as can be, practically flaunting its somehow still uncorrupted soul, and with a small child clinging to one of its legs.

As it turned out, Kyon, though she hadn't known his name yet, had come across a parentless waif somewhere and she'd gotten it into her head that the monster was her older brother.

And he seemed to view her in the same light.

There was no genetic connection between the two, of course (Nagato had checked), but they were living with a couple, who had oh-so-generously adopted them.

Which may have seemed odd, if one didn't know that Kishin had the power of wish-fulfillment.

Actually, forget 'may have', it _was_ confusing that the new Kishin would have wished for something like that. Warmth? Security? A place to regularly lay one's head?

It made no sense. Where was the madness in it?

And so, Nagato had enrolled in the same school as the Kishin (where she lived didn't make much difference, so long as her home was an orderly one), and watched him.

For five.

And a half.

Years.

And, in that time, she really hadn't done much, other than reap souls, read the collected works of Agatha Christie (again), and doubt that Kyon was actually a Kishin.

He exuded madness, yes, but it was a cohesive sort of wavelength, not a divisive one.

And his 'sister' continued to regard him as the sun and the moon, even if he often had a hard time getting up in the mornings and needed to be tackled awake.

Much as it worried Nagato to have a Kishin in the world, and not be taking an active hand in destroying it, it had also been a sort of buffer, as many lesser madness-gods who appeared were quickly extinguished by the wavelength of their stronger senior.

He was still an anomaly, of course, but Kyon, fortunately, was the kind of anomaly which is like a Rubik's cube you'd already tried to solve fifteen different ways, given up on ever understanding, and had finally just set it down on the coffee table, to annoy guests rather than yourself. He wasn't the 'Captain, we've crashed into an anomaly and all systems are critical' type.

And, frankly, after Suzumiya, Goddess of Insanity, had made her entrance into the world, she hadn't much cared what was wrong with Kyon. It had been hard enough to keep Suzumiya from destroying the world every time she saw a cartoon and thought, 'How cool would it be if this were real?'

She hadn't had to destroy Haruhi Suzumiya, fortunately for the girl in question, even though some small part of Yuki might have preferred the simplicity of that solution.

Indeed, though Kishin Suzumiya was much more closely in line with the traditional madness-monster profile, it seemed the world had been saved, once again, by the confounding Kishin Kyon, who seemed to be siphoning off the greater part of Haruhi's wavelength to increase his own power.

That he was doing this unconsciously was astounding.

And that it had no discernible effect on his personality or self-control made her want to a;sldkfja;sldkfja;sldkfj on her computer's keyboard until the universe made sense again.

A few months later, after informing Kyon of his status as a Kishin, of which he'd apparently been unaware of all this time, he'd freaked out and had been camping out in these woods, refusing to go back to civilization, claiming that he was an abomination, and could damn well do whatever he wanted—though Nagato suspected he was worried about hurting his sister in the fallout of the inevitable existential crisis.

Realizing the mysterious absence of one of her classmates, Haruhi had followed, staying at the country-home of a convenient relative (whom Nagato was almost certain hadn't existed before she'd saw the need for him to), and had gone in search of Kyon, and the reason behind his disappearance, dragging along Kyon's sister, Yuki, and two of her unholy (though admittedly unintended) creations: two Clowns, which fed off Suzumiya's wavelength and created a mild-feedback loop, and made up, somewhat, for Kyon's constant draining of her powers.

There was the timid Mikuru Asahina, who seemed to have a disregard for all things entropic and also for the notion that time must march forward solely at sixty minutes an hour. And for the notion that it should never march backwards. Nagato didn't like her much.

The other was Itsuki Koizumi, a rather deranged sycophant to start with, who didn't appear to have much of a will of his own, and delighted in creating convoluted and impossible conspiracies. He considered Suzumiya to be his god. Honestly, the guy scared Nagato just a bit.

Suzumiya's madness, of course, was the sort that cannot distinguish between reality and stories. Rather romantic to think about, but altogether horrifying when put into practice.

And, now that she'd seen a few of them together, Yuki had noticed that each Kishin had their own particular brand of madness.

And she'd figured out what Kyon's was.

Yes, madness was loss of control, irrationality, and a desperate struggling for things which had no objective value.

And, in Kyon's case, madness was also love.

Love for his adopted sister.

* * *

"What's up, Nagato?" Kyon had asked. She could see his concern that she'd felt the need to request a personal conversation. But he trusted her, she knew, so he'd listen to what she had to say.

"Do you remember the Witch with three souls?" she asked him.

"Of course," he replied. "Any new information on them?

"The Witch is the Chameleon Witch," said Nagato. "She is enemies with the Deer Witch, whom I captured the other day. The Witch has the ability to make herself invisible to other Witches, it seems, and they helped me capture the other, when she assaulted me."

"They?"

"The other two souls belonged to items the Witch was wearing. They seem to be some sort of 'living weapons' which can take the form of either humans or combat gear."

"So, the Witch. She's uncorrupted?"

"She is. Also, they say they're lost and trying to get back to their home."

"I hope they make it," said Kyon.

"As do I," said Nagato, hoping the fact that she'd made a wish-fulfilling Kishin hope for their safe return would be enough to ensure it would actually happen.

She owed those three, after all.

* * *

Kyon's Perspective:

_Ah, Nagato_, thought Kyon_. I love you, I really do. You're such a good person to have around. I wouldn't know what was going on half the time if it weren't for your research. Haruhi and I would have killed each other by now if you weren't there to remind me that I really shouldn't blame her._

_Hmm... _he thought. _She's always so serious all the time. And is no wonder, considering she's such a workaholic. Not like she ever goes to the movies or has hobbies besides reading, or any significant other... actually, do Shinigami even get married?_

He mentally shook his head. _Not that it'd work between us. I'm probably destined to end up with Haruhi, and, much as I hate to admit it, that's most likely for the best. Nagato needs someone, though._

He thought about the available men. _Someone besides Koizumi_, he thought. _Hope she meets someone who's good for her. She deserves it._


	25. Chapter 25

Not four days later, Nagato was returning to the SOS Brigade meeting, which she was late for, due to her job. She would not use this fact as an excuse in front of Suzumiya, even if it meant being punished by cosplay, as so often happened with poor Asahina and, occasionally, Koizumi.

Though Koizumi actually seemed to enjoy it.

Moving on, Yuki had been minding her own business, walking through the woods at a rather faster-than-human pace, when she'd heard an unfamiliar voice cursing fate, and glanced over at the source of the noise.

When she'd found it, after slowing down to a more mortal speed (out of caution), she almost believed she must have been mistaken, for the stranger had seen her first, and he now resembled nothing but the perfect gentlemen, and, no matter how hard she tried, Nagato couldn't picture this person cursing in the coarse manner in which she'd just heard. Next to him, was a small robot, who fidgeted, but did not speak. Perhaps the robot had been the one using foul language?

After sweeping an elegant bow in her direction, the guy graced her with a winning smile.

"Ah, excuse me, Miss," he said. "I wasn't expecting to meet such a charming lady on my journey; I find myself at a loss for words. Might I know your name, fair maiden?"

"Yuki Nagato," said Yuki Nagato, whose 'B.S.-Detector' was nudging towards the red.

Her brusque manner seemed to clue him in to her inability to be flattered. "I am Kyoya Ohtori," he said. "I don't suppose you've seen a Witch around here?"

"Deer or Chameleon?" asked Nagato, who had decided that this person probably wasn't a threat. Even if he wasn't the most sincere of humans, he did, at least, have a decent soul.

"Chameleon," said Ohtori, without missing a beat.

"I have seen her," said Nagato. "But you might have trouble with it. Unless you possess soul-perception. That might help."

"As a matter of fact..." answered Ohtori.

She raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"It's a more common ability among weapon-wielders than amongst the general populace," he mentioned.

"'Weapons'. Humans who turn into weapons, you mean?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, with the air of one uncertain why he's being asked an obvious question.

"Other than the two with the Witch you seek," explained Nagato. "I've never seen the like before. And I've seen quite a lot."

"Quite understandable," said Ohtori, gesturing to the machine at this side. "My associate and I are from an alternate dimension."

Nagato considered this. It made a good deal of sense... though it also sounded an awful lot like an excuse.

Either way, Suzumiya would just have to wait awhile longer for her fifth brigade member to arrive. "Can you sense their wavelengths from here?" she asked, unsure whether a human, even one with soul-perception, would be able to pick up the faint signal from the northeast.

"I believe so," said Ohtori, after a moment's consideration. "Do you have any pressing engagements, Lady Nagato?"

"Nothing in particular," she said.

Two miles to the west, Haruhi Suzumiya became irritated for no apparent reason.

"Would you accompany us?" he asked, offering an arm.

After some consideration, she took it, and they made small talk for nearly an hour's worth of brisk walk.

During this time, Kyoya Ohtori had gotten a feel for the girl's personality, and had realized she was about as interested in politesse as he was in anonymity, and had steered the conversation towards literature, a more substantial grounds for discourse.

As the two of them found, their opinions on plot and characterization were not entirely dissimilar, though Ohtori tended more towards non-fiction, particularly historical accounts on the formation of empires, while Nagato favored works of escapism and optimism (Sci-fi, fantasy, inspirational, etc.). It seemed that their two dimensions were similar enough to share many of the same authors.

This period of pleasant conversation couldn't last however, as soon they came across the first wooden doll.

It was made from four or five pieces of wood, which were tied together to resemble a stick-man, and then hung from a tree.

Nagato, if she was unsettled, didn't show it.

The blue robot didn't react much, either.

But Kyoya Ohtori sighed. He didn't exactly remember the source, but such a figure reminded him of some night or other when the twins had shown Tamaki a movie, which had made the blond run, screaming, to his bedroom. He had been unable to sleep until dawn the next morning.

Kyoya himself had been working with spreadsheets on his laptop, and hadn't paid more than cursory attention to the film, but he had a rather bad feeling about where this was going.

The further they walked, the more of the stick-men they ran into. The dolls varied in size and in density on any particular tree, creating an altogether haphazard ambiance.

When the three approached the wavelength source, mostly in silence though Nagato did offer one final remark, when it seemed that they would soon be within earshot of those they sought.

"I've been giving the impression that I was unable to see them," she said. "The results were... amusing. You may wish to do the same."

"They're not visible to the naked eye?" asked Ohtori.

"My working theory is that only those with Soul-perception can see them," agreed Nagato. "Though, as far as I know, the theory has been tested on only one individual, a Witch," she added.

"Interesting," said Ohtori.

They reached a river, along which the three missing persons from Shibusen were walking. It was actually a rather adorable sight. Angela was between Maka and Black-Star; each of them held one of her hands, and, occasionally, they swung her back and forth, to lighten the mood.

At that moment, Nagato, who had been silent, began asking Ohtori what he thought of the imagery in Catch-22, which in her dimension was a story about a scientist, rather than a soldier. He answered easily, moving on to expound on the use of flashbacks in the book. In this manner, they continued blathering on throughout the events which followed.

When they heard voices behind them, Maka and Black-Star paused and slowly turned around, inciting an annoyed, 'what is it?' from Angela.

"Atlas!" yelled the two weapons, once they'd recognized their old friend from Aperture. "Ohtori!" they said, receiving no response from either. Nagato!" they tried for good measure. In Atlas' case, his silence was because he genuinely couldn't hear them. "

Ohtori and Nagato were merely feigning ignorance.

"And they can't see us either," said Black-Star. "Score one for me."

"Why are you so eager to prove that we're dead?" asked Maka. "It's the worst of most possible outcomes. Besides, if we were dead, Nagato should be able to see us, if she really is a Shinigami."

Ohtori filed this bit of information away for later analysis.

"She can't see us because we're not supposed to move on yet," he said, "but we can still affect things. Therefore, we're poltergeists, and it's our duty to cause as much mayhem as possible."

"I never should have let you watch that movie," said Maka. "That's one word that could have happily stayed out of your vocabulary. Or the Blair Witch Project," she added, remembering the sticks.

"The what?" asked Angela, who was compiling a list of movies she was going to watch when they got home.

"Never mind," said Maka. "Anyway, do you think those are the Ohtori and Atlas from this universe or from ours?"

"Ohtori's not from our universe," said Angela. "He's from the Ouran one."

"What if he _is_ the Ohtori from our universe?" argued Black-Star. "There probably is one, somewhere."

"Why would someone from our universe be in this dimension?" said Maka.

"They were kidnapped by a Witch who was also a weapon who wanted to eat their soul?" asked Angela.

Maka shook her head. "Touché."

"So," said Angela, "want to try and get their attention, or just stalk them and see if they go to any of the other dimensions?"

"I've been stalking your mom for like two years straight, 'cause I'm way too shy to ask her out on a date—" began Black-Star, remembering one of the more annoying songs he knew.

"Oh no," said Maka. "I'm not listening to that again. Besides, he's a guy! It doesn't make sense."

"Suoh says he's a mom," pointed out Black-Star.

"Suoh also says I'm a 'daring and exotic beauty'," she said. "And then I whack him on the head with a dictionary," she added. "Black-Star, I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but Suoh isn't really the most truthful of people..."

"Then," said Angela, trying to cut off the argument before it could begin, "we'll try communication," she said. "Atlas is probably the most likely one to recognize us, right?"

"But he can't see us," pointed out Black-Star.

"He might be able to see a portal, though," considered Maka, transforming one of her arms to a gun, and motioning for Black-Star to do the same.

The walked some way ahead of Ohtori, Nagato, and Atlas, flattened a patch of grass, and shot two orange portals down onto the ground.

Though he couldn't hear the sound the portal guns made as they fired, Atlas still looked up at the influx of familiar energy, and rushed forward to find the source of it.

"He knows us," said Angela. "Score one for the 'we're not dead yet' crowd."

Atlas looked around for them, especially up in the surrounding trees, but failed to find anything. He stretched out his wavelength, trying to resonate with them and get a fix on their location, and seemed surprised that they were almost directly in front of him.

Maka and Black-Star hugged the machine in front of them in relief. And it seemed as though they'd managed to communicate their message across, as the blue robot shot a third portal at the grass, one which linked back to Aperture Laboratories.

Atlas jumped through, followed by the three children, who landed in a pile on the other side, due to the absence of long-fall boots.

The robot gave a wave to Kyoya and Yuki before opening the door, inside the facility, and gesturing for the three prodigal kids, whom he still could not see, to follow him, which they were all too willing to do.

* * *

"You're right," said Ohtori, when they were out of earshot of the portal. "That was amusing."

"As I said," remarked Nagato. "So then," she said. "Who are you, who are they, and what brings you to our universe?"

"I," he said, "am leader of a group of weapons, in my home universe. We fight for weapons to have the same rights shared by all humans. Those three," he said. "Are from a friendly organization and have been missing for several weeks. I'm trying to solidify an alliance with their leader and thus thought it good to get in on the rescue operation. I won't bore you with the details, but we were actually rather lucky to find this place as soon as we did."

"I'm sure," said Nagato, silently thanking Kyon for coming through for her.

"Now then," said Ohtori. "Tell me more about yourself."

* * *

When the Ouran Witches found themselves summoned to Aperture Laboratories and ushered into an empty room, their first thought was that they were being made the butt of some joke or other.

After they got tired of trying to destroy the door, however, they realized that Angela's wavelength was, indeed, present within the room, even if the Witch herself wasn't visible.

Then they spent a fun five hours trying to figure out what Angela had done, and how best to fix it, but fix it they did. Though they were in a rather put-out mood from start to finish, they did cheer up when their three patients thanked them profusely.

To avoid distressing the loved ones unnecessarily, the Ouran Alliance hadn't put out the news that the Angela, Black-Star, and Maka were back until they were visible again. But when they did get around to it, Mifune was the first to know, and he'd informed the rest of the Society straight away.

And, for awhile, things were happy and chaotic.

But when people had finally calmed down, the first thing they did was sit down and have a meeting with the leaders of Ouran, Shibusen, and Aperture. Between the three organizations, and considering recent events, there were a few things things they really needed to get straightened out.


	26. Chapter 26

While trying to find the room for the meeting he was attending, Kyoya Ohtori came across no fewer than two libraries, two cafeterias, a few raquetball courts, and, for some reason, an indoor ice-skating rink. He could have simply asked for directions, of course, but he was trying to maintain his omniscient persona in front of the locals.

Then again, perhaps he should make more of an effort to appear human.

"Excuse me?" he asked a passing student. "Would you be so kind as to direct me to the Death Room?"

* * *

Other than Lord Death and his son, Kyoya Ohtori was the first to arrive to the meeting. When he noticed they were discussing something, he took a seat near the opposite end of the meeting table and took out his laptop, pulling up some work that he probably wouldn't be able to get done later.

As the minutes wore on, the other attendees began filing in and taking their places at the table. Any and all Death Scythes from Ouran and DWMA were attending. This was his first time seeing Tezca Tlipolca, Vajra Yadava, Tsar Pushka, Deng Dinga, and Djinn Garan. Though, admittedly, he'd only seen Spirit Albarn in passing. Marie Mjolnir, Justin Law, and Yumi Azusa were also there. Those who had meisters had brought them along. Stein had been sitting with Marie at the start, but had gotten bored and gone over to bother Spirit and Lord Death.

The younger generation Death Scythes were in attendance, and sitting together: Soul Eater Evans, Elizabeth and Patricia Thompson, as well as Tsubaki Nakatsukasa. At least, Kyoya assumed she was a Death Scythe, since she was at the meeting. Their meisters / weapons Maka Albarn and Black-Star were also there.

The two Witches, Kim Diehl and Angela Leon were there, along with Jacqueline O'Lantern and the Samurai Mifune.

It was rather unfortunate that the two Shinigami had invited so many people from Shibusen to attend the, supposedly, top-secret meeting. On the other hand, thirteen of them were Death Scythes, so he wasn't too unhappy about it.

From Ouran he'd invited his own Death Scythes, of course: the Haninozuka brothers and the Morinozuka ones; also, Ayanokoji, their sole female Death Scythe.

And, if you were going to be technical, Kyoya was also there, but he wasn't one to brag, when keeping things secret might result in a later advantage.

Which was part of why he'd been extremely reluctant to call this meeting, in the first place.

Moving on, the Ouran Witches were there, and looking depressed, as was characteristic for them, these past few weeks... though, they did look noticeably better, if still not anywhere near normal. The Hitachin Clowns were there, and so was Noyade, leader of the demons of the Alliance.

Essentially, if this war were a chess match, anyone of rook rank or higher was invited.

As for the third parties:

Blair and Belzenef were attending.

Those two fairies who seemed to be from Shibusen were over in one corner.

GLaDOS was the sole representative from Aperture, though the other two sentient weapons, Excalibur and Ragnarok were sitting with her. Ragnarok had brought along his meister, Chrona.

The last person to arrive was his sister, Fuyumi, and his brother-in-law, Anthony. Though, no one had wanted to be late, and it was still fifteen minutes before the meeting was due to start.

He'd considered commencing the meeting early, since all were present, but they seemed to be enjoying talking in a disruptive manner, and he really could use some more time to run a few modeling programs.

While he did so, Kyoya kept an ear open to the conversations going on around him.

The room was divided into roughly two conversations: Justin Law and Fuyumi's conversation, and Lord Death's conversation. The third generation Death Scythes (except Spirit) were part of the first, as were his own Death Scythes. Maka Albarn, Black-Star, and the Hitachins were part of the first, as well. The second comprised roughly everyone else. Though the conversations happened simultaneously, it was a simple matter for the Ouran Alliance leader to separate them and file any useful information away for future use.

There weren't very many speakers for the two conversations, but there were a great many listeners, and this day would be remembered as a key one in deciding the strategy of the war.

* * *

Near the south head of the Death Room, Lord Death and Belzenef were conversing.

"Belzenef, was it?" asked Lord Death. "I'd like to thank you for the help you gave Stein when that Assassin tried to take out Kid."

Belzenef nodded, gravely. "You are welcome, Shinigami-sama."

Those from Shibusen had only ever seen Belzenef as an employee, so none of them, save Blair, had much of a feel for his personality, which was a reserved and composed one, though he did seem to be warming up to the Ouran Witches, particularly Nekozawa.

Lord Death was still on his thankfulness tangent. "There's always a place for you, at Shibusen, should you want it," he was saying.

"Thank you for the offer," said Belzenef, "but I believe I'll be joining Blair in the Ouran Alliance. I just signed the paperwork this morning."

The Shinigami was obviously surprised at this bit of news. "Blair, you're a part of the Alliance?" he asked. "I'd always thought of you as being part of Shibusen."

She shrugged. "I don't know if it's permanent, but it seems like a good place to hide from Soul for awhile."

"Why would you want to hide from Soul?" Lord Death wanted to know.

"Um, I mean..." Blair tried to come up with something else to say.

Soul cut in. "It's cool, Blair. You can tell them. I'm barely even mad about it anymore, and it might be useful information."

"Okay," she said. "Well, you know by now, there's a parallel between Cats and Witches." Lord Death nodded. "A Witch's soul can be used to create a Death Scythe, but not a Cat's... at least, that's the general misconception," said Blair.

"'Mis-'?" he asked.

"Yeah," Blair said. "if a weapon who's eaten ninety-nine Kishin souls eats one of a Cat's nine souls, you do actually get a Death Scythe—just not a conventional one. When Cats make Death Scythes for ourselves, we always use our own souls."

"Of course," said Belzenef, as an explanation, "Sacrificing one-ninth of your lives is a significant loss, so even though having a Death Scythe made from your own soul has the advantage that only you can use its power, and no others are able to... it's usually only criminals and miscreants, sentenced by the council to be mercenaries, who create feline Death Scythes."

"No one else can even resonate with the weapon anymore?"

"Well, anyone who would normally be able to can use the weapon, but only the Cat will be able to use it as a Death Scythe. It's complicated..."

"Interesting," said Lord Death. "But, hold on a second. Didn't you—"

"Yeah," said Blair. "The council got me for some pretty blatant tax-evasion and sentenced me to death, and subsequent servitude as a mercenary. I was to go out into one of the worlds, find a weapon, and turn that weapon into a Death Scythe."

"So, you decided not to?" asked Belzenef.

"No..." she said. "I went out and pretended I was a Witch."

"And then Maka and Soul came along, you let them eat your soul, and completely stole their work," said Lord Death, who was surprised and appalled by the ingenuity of the idea.

"You've got it!" she said.

"Wait a second," said Belzenef. "When exactly did this happen?"

"Um," said the Human Cat.

"Blair..." said the tan feline.

"About... a week after I left home, actually," she admitted.

"You mean to say," said Belzenef, who was extremely irritated, "that you completed your assignment, literally, the week after it was given, didn't report it, and went off to have fun for the rest of the allotted time, forcing me to continually track you down and give, completely useless, warnings to complete your assignment?"

"Yes?" said Blair, looking very nervous indeed.

"You are dead to me," he said, turning to face the Ouran Witches and start up a conversation, just to make the point that he was ignoring Blair.

"Much as I'm horrified by the dishonesty," said Tsubaki to Blair. "There's part of me that's very impressed."

"Tell me about it," said Lord Death. He then seemed to notice who he was talking to. "Tsubaki? I didn't know you'd made Death Scythe. Congratulations!"

"Thanks, though it's not really any merit on my part. It's the Witches you should be thanking."

"What?" asked Shibusen's leader.

"You remember they helped heal Kid?" asked the Shadow Weapon.

"KID!" yelled Maka and Black-Star, "Get over here!"

Kid exchanged a glance with his father, but did as they asked, moving to the other side of the room.

"Of course," said Lord Death, once he'd managed to regain his train of thought. "I gave them a cake or something. And a Porsche."

"I liked the cake," said Kirimi.

"Cake," said GLaDOS. "Don't get me started on cake..." she went on her own tangent, while Stein listened, sympathetically.

"Do you know how they helped him?" Tsubaki asked.

"Magic?" asked Lord Death, stating the obvious because he did not, in fact, know.

"Less than you might think," the Death Scythe said. "What they used was a very elementary healing-spell, fueled by a crap-load of power: more than you'd ever see under normal circumstances."

"Okay," said the Shinigami, "I'll bite: how?"

"They used the energy from a Death Scythe power-rush. I'd consumed ninety-nine Kishin eggs, so I was the perfect candidate."

"And the Witch's soul?"

"The four adult Witches each gave up part of theirs, and Kirimi did the healing spell-work," explained Tsubaki.

"They lost part of their souls?" Lord Death was alarmed.

"Surely you've noticed they haven't exactly been the most chipper people since?" said Tsubaki. "The process isn't exactly a pleasant one, or so I'd imagine."

"Oh," said Lord Death.

He turned to the Ouran Witches. "I see I was unaware of the trouble you took for us. Would you like a few more sports cars?"

Nekozawa blinked.

"Are you suggesting that having the soul torn is equal in worth to any sort of material goods?" asked Haruhi, slightly stunned.

Nekozawa was silent as he considered it.

"Works for me," the Coven Leader said, eventually. "Many have sacrificed more and received less, I'd be a fool not to take what we can get. And it does sound very appealing."

They continued speaking for another few minutes until Kyoya Ohtori stood up and called for everyone's attention.

"Let's get started, shall we?" he said.

* * *

The second conversation:

"Now," Fuyumi was saying to Justin Law. "Death the Kid and Lord Death are the sole Shinigami of this dimension. Is their relationship like that of parent and child?"

"There is Shinigami the Father, and Shinigami the Son," said Law, going into full-on devout-mode. "The Father reigns from his city on high... but the Son is one who chose to walk amongst us, to be one of us, and to better understand the human race though empathy. The Son chose to die for you, personally, and now he sits at the right hand of the Father."

Fuyumi got the reference almost immediately and simply sat there, with a slightly stunned expression on her face. She looked over to see that, indeed, Kid was seated to the right of Lord Death.

"Hold on a minute," she said, as she realized the full implications of his words. "'Chose to die'? Is that just because of the Jesus metaphor?"

"Well, I could be wrong, of course," said Law, "but, from where I was standing, on the night Kid was shot, it looked as though he glanced in the direction of the sniper before he stepped in front of you, blocking you from the line of fire."

The Guillotine turned to face the table's head.

"Hey, Kid!" said Justin. "Is it true you..."

"KID!" screamed Maka and Black-Star, drowning out Law's question. "Get over here!"

Raising an eyebrow at their brusque summons, the grim reaper excused himself from conversation with his father and various others and made his way over to his peers.

"What's with the yelling?" he asked.

Maka and Black-Star drew him into a huddle with Fuyumi Ohtori and Justin Law. The other third generation Death Scythes were listening, none too subtly.

"They know," said Black-Star, giving a significant nod in Law's and Ohtori's direction.

"Should we kill them?" asked Maka, in all seriousness.

Kid put his head in his hands. "That would rather defeat the purpose of stepping in front of the bullet in the first place, wouldn't it?" he sighed. "Besides, how would you kill Law, even if you were so inclined?"

"Portal guillotine?" suggested Black-Star, as though it were obvious.

"Neurotoxin?" offered Maka.

"Mashy-Spike-Plates?" said Black-Star.

"You two are never getting keys to my house," said Kid, looking slightly disgusted. "Have I mentioned how much humanity appalls me?"

"Nope," said Black-Star, cheerfully. "That's a lie. You're not appalled by humanity, just by us."

"Why else would you bother taking a bullet for Ohtori?" asked Maka.

"That's—" Kid started to retort, but was interrupted.

"So you did save me on purpose?" asked Fuyumi. "When you barely had any power yourself?" She looked about ready to start crying.

"Ms. Ohtori," said Kid, looking uncomfortable. "It's something I would have done for anyone. There's really no need to look so distraught. You have nothing to feel guilty over," he said, seeing how she still seemed to be on the verge of tears.

"Honestly, Kid," said Maka. "If you're really that unconcerned about it, why not just admit it? It would do wonders for Ouran / Shibusen relations."

"What's that, guys?" he asked, innocently. "You want me to tell father and Spirit-san about how you two saved my life? Why, that's a lovely idea! I'm sure they'd be thrilled to hear it!"

Black-Star folded his arms. "Oh no you don't. This counts as _our_ blackmail. Which means, rather than you holding _that _over our heads, we now operate on the principle of mutually assured destruction should any of this get out."

"Yup. We're secret buddies!" agreed Maka.

"You two saved Kid's life?" asked Law, who they'd honestly forgotten was still there, even if only for a second.

All three: …

Maka tried to talk her way out of things. "We're comrades, we've saved each others lives more times than can be counted."

Law wasn't convinced. "That's not what it sounded like."

"Great," said Black-Star, "we don't have any dirt on Law. At least, I don't. Maka? Kid?"

"Big fat nothing," said Kid.

Maka shook her head. "Sadly, no."

"How about orphans?" asked Law.

The three students gulped.

"Nope," said Kid, in the most innocent voice he could manage. "As far as we know, you've never done anything blackmail-worthy involving orphans."

"Oh, but I wasn't talking about myself," said Justin Law. "If I recall correctly, you had to leave the Eat Class after a certain mission that involved protecting orphans. In fact, I do believe Lord Death is under the mistaken impression that you were on a soul-hunting mission when the whole sad affair occurred. Could this be something similar, I wonder? Why don't we ask him?"

"Fine, said Kid. "fine."

"It's just..." Maka began.

"Have you met my father?" the two of them said in a deadpan unison.

"He overreacts to nothing!" said Maka. "If he actually has something of substance to freak out over, he might just explode with overprotective pride."

"Father doesn't know the meaning of the word 'discretion'," said Kid. "Have you seen him show my baby pictures to random people? Not just acquaintances, mind you, or as part of casual conversation. I've actually seen him pull aside strangers on the street and take out his wallet..."

A few of the Death Scythes nodded in sympathy. Everyone loved Shinigami-sama, of course, but his personality was a bit much to deal with.

"You didn't seem that worried about something like this after your defeat of Asura," pointed out Vajra.

"Saving the world's fine," said Black-Star. "That's duty, we're almost expected to do that, along with all our other chores. But, if their parents find out that we're saving lives recreationally, and without a great amount of power to our names... well, then the rest of the world will find out, too. And and if this stuff goes global, we might as well paint cute symbols on our stomachs and join the care bears. We wanna bee seen as soul-devouring death-warriors, not magical friendship-ponies..."

Maka shuddered.

Kid looked slightly miffed. "But I_ like _ the magical friendship ponies..."

"Of course, we'll be discrete around Shinigami-sama and Spirit," Law reassured them, glancing at where the two of them were talking to the Ouran Witches, across the room. The other Death Scythes nodded. "However, in an organization such as ours, there are some things you just shouldn't keep from authority."

Kid sighed. "Fine. What do you want to know?"

Law raised an eyebrow. "These two saved your life, and you're using it as blackmail?"

Kid raised his hands as though to defend his position from attack. "This is different from pushing me out of the way of a falling rock or taking out an attacker during battle—both of which have happened, by the way. This was deliberate and, at the time, completely paranoid."

"Well?" asked Justin.

Kid drummed his fingers, marshaling his thoughts. "Have you heard about the soul-hunting the three of us have been doing with GLaDOS?"

"You mean, acting as a decoy?" asked Law. "Yes."

"GLaDOS has been giving us a few of the souls we help bring back, as commission we think," said Kid. "And these two" he pointed to Maka and Black-Star, "insisted that I should consume all six of them, as the number of souls eaten is, theoretically, proportional to the amount of meister ability we regain. Not that it had any effect that I'd been able to notice."

"Because, and I quote," said Maka, "'what if some nutjob takes it into his head to try and assassinate a Shinigami?'"

"Which was completely paranoid and unreasonable," Kid interjected.

"But, it happened," Black-Star pointed out.

Kid shrugged. "Doesn't mean you weren't being paranoid. They could have been aiming for Ms. Ohtori, anyway."

Law regarded them with interest. "You two suspected that Kid would be attacked?"

The Kishin-killer and the Assassin looked slightly uncomfortable. "Not really," Black-Star admitted. "We were just trying to annoy the crap out of him by being overly nice, and to justify ourselves by saying it might save his life one day. It was hilarious."

"Yeah," said Maka, smiling. "Every time we made him eat one of the souls, he'd get the most interesting look on his face..."

"I know, right?" said Black-Star.

Kid shook his head, then looked over to Law with a 'see what I have to deal with?' expression.

Law, however, was completely somber. "You barely survived that attack. If your powers had manifested in any lesser degree than they had, you wouldn't be alive today."

"Yes," said Kid. "So if we'd divided the souls evenly, like I'd wanted to, I'd be dead. But there's no hard evidence, only speculation on our part. So it's not like it's strictly necessary to bring it up..." he looked away.

"Were you really not aware that your Shinigami abilities were coming back?" Law asked Kid, raising an eyebrow.

Kid shrugged. "I'd tried to access them after consuming souls, but to no avail. I suppose I simply required a 'do or die' situation to find out what I was truly capable of."

Law was thoughtful. "You knew there was an Assassin trying to kill Ohtori, didn't think you had any sort of healing ability to draw on, and you still took that bullet purposefully... Death help us all, he's following in his father's footsteps..."

"To be honest," said Kid. "It sounds a lot better than it is. I had very little idea what was happening, at the time. I wasn't entirely sure that the gun wasn't an umbrella or a walking-cane of some sort. I thought I was just being paranoid..."

"So, what are you three planning to do now?" asked Justin.

"Well," said Black-Star. "Now that Tsubaki's somehow a Death Scythe, we can start force-feeding Kid souls again."

Maka nodded.

Kid whipped his head around to look at Black-Star. "You're going to do _what_?"

"Are you familiar with the concept of 'fatty goose liver'?" Maka asked.

Kid's face was blank.

"Oh," said Fuyumi, making a face. "I've never eaten the stuff. I'm told it's very good, but I could never stand the thought of the geese being force-fed before slaughter."

Kid blanched.

"Now, you can either gorge yourself on souls like a good little death-god," said Maka. "Or we'll turn you over to the third-generation Death Scythes and let them make some foie gras a la Death Scythe."

"Sounds acceptable," said Justin Law.

Kid sighed in exasperation. What was the expression? 'A good friend would save your life, but a true friend is someone you could happily murder with a chainsaw'?

Then, he turned his attention back to reality since Kyoya Ohtori appeared to be starting the meeting.

* * *

While the Shinigami and his friends were making good-natured jokes, Kyoya Ohtori had was staring at his laptop screen and failing to see any of it.

As it turned out, Death the Kid had not, in fact, been injured accidentally when a sniper tried to take out his sister, as he'd thought. In fact, the younger Shinigami had done it on purpose.

Surprisingly, that didn't eliminate the guilt Kyoya was feeling in the slightest. This increased his debt to these people by quite a considerable fraction.

He closed his laptop with an audible snap, bringing both major and all minor conversations in the room to a halt.

All doubt was gone. He was going to do this.

"Let's get started, shall we?" he said, pushing back his chair and standing up.

"Thank you all for coming," he said. "And thank you, Lord Death for offering your own headquarters to host the meeting.

"Now," he said, "recent events have made it clear that an alliance between Ouran and Aperture would be advantageous for both parties, but before such a thing can be discussed, there must be some measure of disclosure between our organizations"

A quick glance around the room confirmed that things were going well so far.

"I will not insult you by claiming to tell you all the secrets of Ouran," Kyoya continued, "just as we by no means expect to know all that goes on at the DWMA. There is one thing, however, that recent events compel me to share. I believe my sister agrees."

"Of course," Fuyumi said.

Here, he paused.

"You are aware that the Death Emperor has four children?" said Kyoya Ohtori.

"Yes," replied a few people. Others nodded.

"And that they have not been seen publicly for several years?"

"Of course," said Belzenef, who looked rather bored.

"There's a reason for that," he said. He'd been approaching the topic rather slowly, in the hopes of keeping things calm during the revelation.

"Please, do tell," said Death the Kid.

"They're trying to avoid drawing attention to the fact that two of the children aren't there anymore," he said. "That they became part of the Ouran Alliance—"

"Is it Nekozawa?" asked Black-Star, interrupting his dramatic reveal.

"No," Said Ohtori.

"Is it Suoh?" asked Tsubaki.

"No, but if you tell him, he will tell everyone else, so please don't. When Coven Nekozawa first arrived, they told Tamaki that Haruhi's gender was to be kept under wraps, as a prank. By the end of the day, everyone in the Alliance knew the Dragon Witch's 'secret'..."

"Is it you?" asked Maka.

"Yes," admitted Kyoya, expecting this to cause a great stir amongst the Shibusen members.

The people from Ouran already knew and did not react.

He didn't expect the guessing-game to continue uninterrupted. But...

"Is the other one Kasanoda?" asked Patty.

"No."

"Is it Mori?" Soul wanted to know.

"No."

"Is it Ayanokoji?" asked Liz.

"No."

"Is it –" Lord Death started, wanting to join in the game.

"It's me, actually," said Fuyumi, giving them a small smile. "We took the same last name, when we named ourselves. Because, even if there's no blood relationship between Shinigami, we think of each other as siblings."

"What are your titles?" asked Stein.

"Well, they used to be 'Death Princess' and "Prince of Darkness"," said Fuyumi, "but we changed them to "The Dark Lady," and "The Shadow King," after I got married."

"Is your husband...?" asked Marie.

"Anthony is human... which is why we had to leave home. Kyoya sided with me, but neither of our brothers did."

"We appreciate your honesty," said Lord Death, after a long moment. "But why tell us now?"

"We believe that our father is starting to move against us," said Kyoya. "The Assassin who injured your son was most likely aiming for Fuyumi."

"So you want allies," said Azusa.

"In as few words, yes," agreed Kyoya.

"What are the capabilities of the Death-Emperor?" Ragnarok wanted to know.

"He has our two elder brothers, 'The Demon Regent,' and 'The Heir to the Abyss.'" Fuyumi told them.

"He also has twenty-eight Death Scythes—"

"Twenty-seven, Kyoya. Another one managed to commit suicide."

"Twenty-seven Death Scythes, then," said the Ohtori brother. "He has a good number of Witches on his side: Twenty-two, at last count. Though the Cats, whom he was closer with, have since been incarcerated by yourselves."

"We have thirteen Death Scythes," said Lord Death, "fourteen, if you count Soul-kun twice. And yours as well makes nineteen. Two Shinigami, plus two Shinigami is four to their three—though Kid isn't full powered yet. We specialize in soul-binding powers," said Lord Death. "Though we tend not to use those unless it's a matter of life or death."

"Soul-binding?" asked Kasanoda. "As in those insanely powerful spells that bind you to—" he broke off in horror as he realized something.

"When was the last time you left the city?" asked Haruhi.

"A decade," Lord Death said, shrugging. "Why?"

"No reason," said Nekozawa. "Please continue with your inventory."

"We have five Ouran Witches and two Shibusen ones, unless I'm mistaken," said Ohtori.

"Victory shall be ours!" said Angela. Kim nodded.

He turned to look at GLaDOS, "Do we have any sentient weapons on our side?" Kyoya asked.

GLaDOS sighed. "Ragnarok, unless I'm mistaken, wishes to fight with you. Excalibur doesn't have a meister, thus it would probably be wisest for him to remain neutral. My own meister, the only one I've ever been capable of partnering with, is rather angry with me right now.

"Thus, in response to your query, you have eight sentient weapons on your side: Ragnarok, five cores, Blue, Orange, and the Turrets have also decided to side with you."

"The... turrets?" asked Lord Death.

"As I understand, they have a sort of hive mind in Aperture's mainframe and are continually reincarnated in their bodies throughout the facility. They like you," she admitted. "Science only knows why."

"You have two Cats," said Belzenef.

"And two fairies," said Silver.

"Four demons," said one of the Ouran delegation.

"And the rest of the Alliance," said Ohtori.

"And the weapons and meisters of Shibusen," said Stein.

"Well, then," said Lord Death, "That doesn't sound like such a hopeless fight. Unless the Death Scythes object, it is decided, then. Shibusen shall ally with Ouran, and the DWMA shall go to war."

* * *

After the meeting:

The seven members of Team Albarn, who had worked so hard to remain a team, walked slowly in step with each other, basking in the light of their victory at managing to do so.

"So, we're going to war with death," said Tsubaki.

"And against death," said Black-Star, whose arm was linked with his partners.

"And for death," said Liz, clapping Kid on the shoulder.

"And we're back in business," said Maka, rubbing her hands together. "Break-time is officially over! Time to get Kid his powers back."

"And make you two Death Scythes," reminded Tsubaki.

"Hey, guys," said Lord Death, catching them as they left the meeting-room. "I'd like you to go train in Ouran for awhile: help train their weapons, get them ready for war, and become familiar with their typical fighting strategies. Okay?"

"Will-do, father," said Kid, waving at his father as he followed his team down the hallway.

Their next stop was the third music room.

"Hey, guys," said Liz, seeing most of the Not Class members. "Starting tomorrow, the Time Waster's Society meets in the Ouran dimension!"

"Can we still bring the fireworks?" asked Meme.

"Why not?" answered Kid. "I'm sure they won't mind."

* * *

AN: And that's a wrap for Part 2, folks. Next is Part 3: Oh the Shinigamity...

So I've been going back to fix typos in Parts 1 and 2. I really hope that this isn't screwing with those who have this story on alert, since I sometimes replace an entire chapter's content in order to fix a single mistake.

Burnt myself out again, so I will probably take an uncertain-number-of-months break at this point, before starting Part 3. Or at least, before I start on the battle. Fluff might go up sooner, if I finish it.

And, I'll be honest with you. My outline for Part 3 goes very much like: 'First fluff; then. resolve loose plot-threads; finally, gigantic showdown between the Ouran-Shibusen Alliance and the Death Emperor in a flashback-laced massive-multi-crossover battle that results in surprisingly few permanent casualties.'

All I know right now is: 1. I really like the idea of an 'ultimate showdown of ultimate destiny' fight where everyone is essentially on their own side. 2. Chess is awesome. 3. Portals make warfare fun.

And now I'm off to procrastinate.


	27. Chapter 27

Part 3: Oh the Shinigamity...

* * *

It was their first attempt at a mirror conference-call, since it was the first occasion they'd had to do so, after discovering that the Ohtori siblings were Shinigami. Kid was one one end; Lord Death on another; Kyoya and Fuyumi on a third.

"You're sure you don't want a few more warriors?" asked Lord Death. "Spartoi isn't doing anything except training, at the moment." GLaDOS hadn't asked for anything in return for her aid in treating Kid's injuries, so Lord Death grateful to the point of being overly helpful when she requested a few fighters to help with a project of hers.

GLaDOS simply stood there with folded arms. "If you really have no use for them, we'll use them to carry cores around in lieu of management rails, but we have more than enough people for the job."

"All right." Lord Death shrugged. "If you're that confident." He turned to his son. "Kid-kun, good luck to you and your team."

Kid nodded. "Thank you, father."

"If you run into anything insurmountable, you know how to reach us," said Ohtori. "Otherwise, we'll expect you back in no more than a week."

"Affirmative," said Kid.

"Incidentally," said Fuyumi. "You seven wouldn't happen to know who it was that set off those roman candles in the smoking lounge yesterday, would you?"

"Not a clue," said Black-Star innocently.

"You have a smoking lounge?" asked Lord Death.

"You don't?" returned Fuyumi. "That man, Stein, seems to smoke like a chimney."

"Inaccurate," said Franken Stein, who hadn't been in view before that moment. "I'll have you know I smoke like a crematorium."

"See you, father!" said Kid, upon seeing the conversation headed away from incriminating territory. He then hung up before the elder Ohtori sibling could get back on track with her inquiries.

When the mirrors went back to being merely mirrors, seven faces turned to observe Aperture's controller. "What's the job?" asked Maka.

"Clearing out the lower-levels of Aperture Science of an... infestation," replied the AI.

"Of rats?" guessed Black-Star.

"Of Kishin," corrected GLaDOS.

"_Kishin?_" asked Liz. "How long have they been there?"

"Years, probably. The signs were all there: just didn't see them."

"But, Kishin cause insanity! Perfectly normal people become evil monsters in their presence," protested Tsubaki.

"Check," said GLaDOS, remembering all the test subjects who had gone insane... and refusing to acknowledge the possibility that she herself might have also been affected.

"Their madness wavelength distorts reality perception, even for those resistant to its effects..." said Maka.

"Also accounted for," GLaDOS said. Though she'd attributed it to the 24 hour day and adrenal vapor.

"And you haven't noticed this... for _years_?" asked Kid.

"It's amazing what a god complex will do for you," remarked the AI. "But the issue at hand remains unchanged: eliminate the gods of madness."

"Sounds fun," said Liz. "I take it we're doing it the 'fun' way instead of using neurotoxin?"

"Neurotoxin is ineffective against Kishin," admitted GLaDOS.

"You've tried flooding the lower levels with it already?" asked Soul.

"Yes," said GLaDOS. "But before that, Blue and Orange," the two straightened up at the sound of their nicknames, "went through the entire facility once, killing the corrupt clowns, Witches, and pre-Kishins they found there, and removing any ordinary or uncorrupted beings to their dimension of origin. However, after thirty hours the corrupt re-spawn, due to the influence of one, or possibly more, unidentified Kishin."

"Same thing happened when we fought Asura on the moon," said Patty. "but with a much faster regeneration rate. After you've killed them their souls stick to their bodies and won't come out, right?"

"Correct," said GLaDOS. "Then how does one kill a Kishin?"

"Well, in theory, you can do it with raw power, though that's not the way we got rid of Asura," said Tsubaki.

"Do tell," said the AI.

"We'd hit him with everything we thought we were capable of and more," said the Shadow Weapon. "And we'd all collapsed, except for Maka. She went up and punched him in the face... and then he just died."

"Could you elaborate?"

Tsubaki and Maka exchanged a glance. "He went into a speech," said Maka, "about how there was no point in continuing to fight, and that I should give in to fear. Made me angry, so I hit him." The scythe meister drummed her gloved fingers against her leg in thought. "He freaked out and then disintegrated, saying that he didn't understand what I meant by 'courage'."

"He was destroyed because of a perceived logical contradiction?" asked GLaDOS.

"I... guess," said the blonde meister. "Why?"

"That's the same method used to destroy an artificial intelligence. Say a phrase such as, 'This statement is false'" (Atlas and P-body exploded, and had to be reassembled) "and they cannot process it."

"You two are still alright," noted Maka, glancing at GLaDOS and a still-very-unexploded Wheatley.

"I am well-practiced in the art of cognitive dissonance," said Aperture's controller. "And Moron doesn't understand logic...

"But whatever else they are," said GLaDOS, continuing her line of reasoning and cutting off an indignant Wheatley, "these Kishin sprang up in Aperture. In all probability, they have some mechanical character to them. If you find yourself faced with a Kishin... try a paradox."

"But that doesn't work on all AI," pointed out Kid.

"Paradoxes work on all AI, it's simply a matter of getting them to perceive them as such. For example..." She turned to Wheatley. "The cake is a lie," she said.

Wheatley's optic grew huge in horror. "NOOOOO!" he screamed, just before combusting into a million tiny pieces.

"Warped logic for a warped processor," she explained.

* * *

"What are we looking at?" asked Kid, looking over the schematics and floor-plans on the screen before them.

"Maps of the affected area," Wheatley informed them. "There are several dozen floors of the lower facility. They were cleared out last week, and have since re-spawned. The organics—that's you seven—will take it in shifts to work with Atlas and P-body to clear them again. And this time, clean out the Kishin."

"'Shifts'? This is going to be a 24/7 operation?" asked Liz.

"Yes," said Wheatley. "We'd like to get this over with as quickly possible, I'm sure you can understand."

"Any objectives besides 'kill everything in sight'?" Black-Star wanted to know.

"No," said the core. "The portals leading to other realms have been sealed, days ago in fact, and any civilians were cleared out during the first run.

"The main assault force consists of the Cooperative Testing Initiative, with me and Adventure as weapons. We'll work continuously—with occasional maintenance breaks, of course. One human technician and their human weapon(s) accompanies the main force at all times, taking eight-hour shifts. Maps of the spawning-patterns and facility from the first run-through shall be available at all times, and, currently, we have this scheduled as a three-day job."

"Did you come up with all this on your own?" asked Maka, looking rather impressed at the attention to detail.

"Well... not really, no," said Wheatley. "I'm just managing this mission. _She_ hasn't let me plan anything since Chell's last birthday party ended in flames... and she probably only let me do that because she knew what would happen. My plans... they tend to, well..."

"Tank horribly?" suggested Tsubaki.

"Yes," admitted the core.

"So, you're no good at creating things. Have you tried destroying them?" asked Patty.

"Tried it; didn't work; ended up stranded on the moon for two months," said the sphere.

"The _moon_ moon?" asked Black-Star.

"Well, it certainly wasn't Disneyland," Wheatley said, just a touch of irony in his voice. "Not to mention, Space was there. In SPACE. Still feel like breaking into the occasional cold sweat when I think about it..."

"Creation doesn't work for you, neither does destruction... have you tried just living by the skin of your teeth without planning anything?" Maka asked.

Wheatley became distressed. "But... but I _have _ to plan!"

"Why?" asked the scythe meister.

"I don't know, actually, I just do. It's like looping program, or a protocol. I just, I have to plan..."

"Okay," said Patty. "I get it, it's like Giraffes," she said.

"What?" asked Wheatley.

"She understands," translated Liz, "and sympathizes."

* * *

"What does DM stand for?" asked GLaDOS.

"Dungeon Master," supplied Soul.

"And why am I not doing my job as 'dungeon master'?" she asked.

"You're supposed to narrate!" said Maka.

"I thought that was what I was doing," said the AI.

"'Nine hostiles coming from ahead' is not a narration," said the Kishin-killer, "it's a report! How about: 'nine enemies approach from the north. They are all Clowns, and their leader resembles the lovechild of a Dementor and and a motorcycle. The air is rent with their cries of bloodlust. What do you do?'"

"By the time I finish a 'narration', you'll all be dead," said GLaDOS. "Not that that's entirely a bad thing, to my point of view, but I do need this job finished."

"Stick in the mud," muttered Maka.

"Twelve hostiles from the left," said Aperture's controller.

"I draw my +9 Whip of Dexterity!" said Soul, using Maka's weapon-form to take out the first of the enemies.

Maka's reflection grinned. "Critical Hit!" she remarked, seeing the pre-Kishin disintegrate.

* * *

When they came across the first Kishin, Tsubaki and Black-Star had been on duty. Soul, Maka, Patty, Liz, and Kid were called in to aid in its destruction. Soul and Maka were sleep-deprived, since they'd been resting before the call to arms woke them. And Liz and Patty were alright, but Kid had been half an episode away from finishing the 2nd-season marathon for his current favorite TV show, so he wasn't in the best of moods.

The Kishin was far enough gone that it didn't look human anymore, it was a eight-limbed monstrosity of a being, and its soul was corrupt in the extreme.

Currently, Atlas, and P-body, who had turned off their audio sensors, were distracting it a multitude of blows while the organics tried out logical paradoxes.

"All humans are liars!" cried Tsubaki.

Nothing.

"Can Shinigami-sama heat a burrito up so hot that he himself cannot eat it?" tried Black-Star (he hadn't been able to get his head around 'Does a set of all sets contain itself?').

Still nothing.

"New mission: refuse this mission," said Soul.

Other than trying to kill them, the Kishin wasn't paying them even the slightest bit of notice.

In fact, nothing had any noticeable effect on it. The Kishin continued on it's rampage of destruction until...

"Friendship is Magic!" yelled Kid, who was in weapon form, being wielded by Liz.

… the god of madness stopped, considered the statement. After a few seconds, there was a nasty sizzling sound, as the Kishin committed suicide in a flash of self-immolation.

The six humans looked from the smoldering remains of the monstrosity to the death-god weapon, disbelief etched on their faces.

"What?" asked Kid, when faced with the surprised stares of his teammates.

"Kid," said Maka in a serious voice. "I take back everything I said before... _don't_ stop watching cartoons. Ever."

* * *

AN: I still consider myself to be on break, since I'm just having fun with this story right now.

Just like for Part 2, I'm not planning to advance the plot in any meaningful way, until I run out of ideas for filler... which could quite easily be fifty chapters from now (though I'll try to wrap it up sooner). Guess we'll see what happens. Won't have a regular update schedule.

Here we go with Part 3...


	28. Chapter 28

Though he was firmly entrenched with the DWMA by this point, and it was by far the organization at whose hands he had received the best treatment, Mifune wasn't overly eager to take on any significant responsibilities within Shibusen.

This was evidenced by him making no effort whatsoever to remove the 'trial' prefix from his job: Trial Professor.

Currently, his duties included hanging around the gyms during the school day, teaching a few physical education courses for the Not Class, as well as helping the Eat students with their training. He didn't teach any of the meatier subjects, such as strategy or the arts of war, and, truth be told, he wasn't exactly champing at the bit to begin doing so.

Though, it seemed that his time of being a lay-about professor was finally drawing to a close, as, that very day in fact, Shinigami-sama had invited him to the monthly meeting of the Death Scythes. Besides the Death Scythes themselves, only Stein and the other Death Scythe meisters were allowed to attend. Why Lord Death thought his presence necessary, the Samurai couldn't hazard a guess, but he wasn't about to disobey instructions from a superior, even if they were nonsensical. His job was such a cushy one, after all, and he'd very much like to keep it.

He arrived at the meeting with scarcely thirty seconds to spare and took an empty seat, between Vajra Yadava and Franken Stein. Team Albarn was in Aperture for some mission or other, he remembered. Thus, there were more than half a dozen unoccupied chairs scattered about the meeting room, giving it an atmosphere of incompletion.

After the obligatory introduction, the swordsman leaned back against his chair and proceeded to become bored out of his mind. He paid no more than minimum attention to the discussions, which were largely strategical in nature, having to do with the stability of their own world, rather than their relationship with the Ouran dimension. Lord Death droned on about disciplinary issues within the school, political and social concerns, Mifune's assignment to join Stein and Sid as occasional partner for the partnerless Death Scythes...

Wait, what was that last one again?

"... and seeing as Mifune-dono has no experience working with living weapons, I'm sure you'll all take good care of him!" Lord Death finished.

Ah, so he _had _ heard correctly.

Shit.

"What?!" shouted Marie, Yumi, Justin, and Vajra.

"—that concludes the matters of interest," said Lord Death. "You're all dismissed."

"Shinigami-sama..." began Justin Law.

But the death-god ignored him and was speaking instead to the mad scientist. "Stein. Spirit and I are off for an afternoon on the town. Want to come?"

"Of course," replied the meister, rising and following his two friends from the room.

...leaving Mifune alone with eight Death Scythes and four meisters, all of them staring at him with some measure of distaste.

Mifune sighed.

He jerked his head towards the door, where Shinigami-sama had just disappeared.

He brought his right hand up to crank an imaginary screw in the side of his head, the universal sign for insanity in Shibusen.

Then, he raised one eyebrow in a questioning expression.

Twelve people nodded without hesitation.

Mifune sighed again, getting to his feet.

"Nice meeting you all," he said, walking out of the room.

For a moment, it seemed as though he'd be allowed to leave.

"...wait!"

Mifune kept walking, but he did slow down and look behind him.

The dozen warriors were now looking slightly guilty.

"We didn't mean to run you off," Marie told him, with an apologetic smile.

"It's fine," said Mifune rather brusquely. "I actually do need to be somewhere..." he said, hoping they'd take the hint and stop hindering his departure.

"We'll walk you there!" said Marie, dragging Asuza, Yadava, and Law behind her. "It'll give us a chance to talk."

"..." the Samurai didn't reply, merely continued walking.

* * *

"Sorry about the cold reception," Marie said, a few minutes later, as they followed the Samurai down the cobbled streets of Death City, "but we haven't always had the best results with partnerships assigned by Lord Death..."

"_Stein _ was the last one. Can you blame us?" shuddered Vajra.

"Well, he's really not that bad," said Marie, defending her somewhat insane comrade in arms, "but we're always wary of new technicians. You never know who's going to end up being the next Asura."

"That's nice," said Mifune, not paying the slightest bit of attention. Marie looked rather offended at that comment, but the Samurai didn't notice, owing to the fact that he'd just spotted a familiar face in the crowd.

"Afternoon," he greeted, giving a nod to a brunette as he fell into step beside her. "How goes it?"

"Could be worse," she replied with a shrug.

The Death Scythes fell behind, not knowing what to think of this development.

The swordsman and his companion walked on for a few minutes, side by side. Upon reaching their destination, the two of them stopped to take their place amongst the parents waiting outside the local elementary school.

The Death Scythes had stopped half a block back, and watched the two with interest.

"That's not his girlfriend, is it?" asked Vajra. "I've never seen her before."

… which just goes to show that, if you take a Witch out of the black robes and put her in normal clothing, no one will recognize her.

Though, it might also have been due to the fact that most of the Death Scythes, though not Azusa, still thought Haruhi was a guy... and the person they saw before them was most definitely wearing pink.

The bell rang. After a lag of perhaps thirty seconds, children began pouring out of the building in droves. A small number of these detached themselves from the main crowd and went over to their waiting parents, though most were headed for the school buses.

"Mifune!" called a small girl, running over and hugging her caretaker.

"Kirimi!" said the brunette, whose own child hadn't noticed her, due to her having her head buried in some sort of comic book.

"Hi, Haruhi," said the child, glancing up briefly from her book, walking over to their group.

"Do I want to know what that's about?" asked the older girl, eyeing the book with no small degree of suspicion.

"Nope," replied Kirimi cheerfully, putting it into her backpack.

Angela giggled, but not in a nice or innocent way, "Ally Warren took Kirimi's book during lunch, and tried to read it out loud to her friends to embarrass her," she confided in her father, "but after a few sentences she just stopped talking. Her eyes were still moving, so she must have kept reading... then she just dropped the book on the floor... and threw up all over her table." The Chameleon Witch was laughing at the mere memory of it.

"You know you shouldn't read stuff like that until you're older, right?" asked Mifune.

"I don't even read _normal _ books," replied Angela, looking at her father as though he were insane, "if I start liking them, it's gonna be ones that don't make you throw up."

"Smart decision," said Mifune, giving her a gentle clap on the shoulder, causing Angela to beam.

After exchanging a few more words, the four of them turned and began to walk back towards Shibusen.

They stopped when they found a blonde woman with an eyepatch blocking their path.

"Are you two dating?" Marie asked them. She was positively green with jealousy.

"If I say 'yes', will you be satisfied and quit following us?" asked Haruhi, who was in a bad mood that day, when it came to anyone outside her Coven.

"No, I'd say the opposite will happen," guessed Mifune.

"Then no," answered the Dragon Witch. "We're not romantically involved in any way. The four of us are merely part of the same Society."

"Dragon Witch Fujioka?" asked Justin Law, finally recognizing her.

"Death Scythe Law," returned Haruhi with a nod.

"The Dragon Witch is a _girl_?" Marie asked Azusa in a shocked whisper. The Crossbow nodded.

Ignoring the muttering about how surprising it was that she was female, the brunette swept past the Death Scythes. Mifune and the children followed along in her wake.

* * *

"Where are we going?" asked Marie a few minutes later, still following them.

Kirimi and Angela dashed through a portal near Shibusen's courtyard.

"_We're _going to the Ouran dimension," said Mifune who, while not in a bad mood, was still antisocial as ever.

"I have no idea where _you're_ headed," continued Haruhi.

"We'll come along," said Azusa, who, while not a stalker like Marie, was genuinely curious about the Samurai by this point.

"Suit yourselves," said Mifune. "Just be aware: this will be different than previous missions to the other dimensions."

"We've all been to Ouran before," pointed out Law.

"Not like this, you haven't," said Mifune, his mouth a grim line, stepping through the portal.

Then, they were walking down the familiar concrete hallway to the meeting-room where the Society had relocated. Since Team Albarn's reinstatement as an official team, not to mention a certain incident involving fireworks, leadership of the Time Waster's Society had fallen mainly to Tamaki Suoh, as he was the one most eager to take responsibility... if not always the one most reliable to follow through with his duties.

Angela and Kirimi ran ahead, pushing open the door and running inside. The adults followed.

After entering the room, they immediately stopped, upon seeing Excalibur brandishing his cane at them.

"—there!" said the Holy Sword, obviously finishing some statement which none of them had heard the beginning to.

Mjolnir, Law, Azusa, and Yadava moved out of the way as quickly as possible; the three Witches followed suit. Mifune, who wasn't about to be intimidated, stood his ground.

There was silence.

What was going on? The Samurai didn't know in the slightest, but controlled insanity was a daily occurrence in the Society, which he had long since grown used to.

"Mifune?" Kaoru asked the Holy Sword in disbelief. "You're saying that the Samurai is your technician?"

"Yes," answered the sentient weapon.

Mifune suppressed a snort. Whatever. He _wasn't_ the Holy Sword's partner... but Excalibur did seem to be rather serious as he approached the swordsman.

"Walk with me," said the sentient weapon, gesturing to the hallway.

Something in the Holy Sword's eyes made Mifune pause. Perhaps this was more than a simple joke, after all.

Mifune left the room. Excalibur followed.

* * *

"I apologize for the ruse," said Excalibur, once they'd found an out of the way corridor in which to converse. "I required an excuse for why I wouldn't take a partner... and you were the closest available proxy."

Mifune raised an eyebrow. "The thousand provisions aren't deterrent enough?"

"Apparently not," replied the Holy Sword, frowning.

"Why the sudden interest in gaining you as a weapon?" wondered the Samurai, glancing to make sure no one rounded a corner and caught them unawares.

"The change of venue to Ouran, I expect," said the sentient weapon. "Everyone in Shibusen already knew I was annoying, so I didn't actually need to _act_ annoying anymore. Here, all they'll see me as is an absurdly powerful weapon, and I can't have just anyone partnering with me."

"Seems kind of paranoid," observed Mifune, "but whatever floats your boat. You may continue to list me as your meister, if it helps."

"No," said Excalibur, shaking his head, "if you're going to be in on this, you need to understand. I told Swordson, when I'd realized I couldn't get rid of him, so it's not like it's a great secret..."

Excalibur paced back and forth for a minute or two, considering his words carefully.

"The thousand provisions," he said, eventually, "are more an excuse than they are anything else. As a sentient weapon, I'm capable of matching wavelengths with anyone. However, there are very few humans out there who can successfully match with any sentient weapon. And if they can't, the consequences are disastrous. Because, even if they can't match wavelengths with us, normal humans can still use our powers: albeit, at great cost to themselves. A cost which usually leads to them becoming unstable and trying to take over the world."

"The 'cost' being?" Mifune wanted to know.

"For myself? Sanity," said the Holy Sword, "For Ragnarok it's autonomy," he continued, going down his mental checklist, "and GLaDOS, while I don't know, I suspect it's individuality."

"Autonomy," said Mifune, thrown off-track by the second item. "So, Chrona... she gave up her autonomy to partner with Ragnarok?" he asked.

"No, that's a fluke... of a sort," replied the sentient weapon, realizing they were getting off track, but thinking that this was also a point worth discussing. "Medusa was trying to create a super-weapon by fusing a living weapon with a human."

He brandished his cane absently, like a lecturer gesturing at a blackboard, despite the fact that there was nothing but empty air before them. "If fusing a normal weapon with a human creates a living weapon, then fusing a living weapon with a human must equal a super-weapon, I suppose must have been her reasoning...

"No," Excalibur reiterated. "Chrona is able to match wavelengths with Ragnarok without any ill consequences. Our true meisters... of which Chrona is one for Ragnarok and Arthur was one for me... tend to be those who already have some experience with our price for meistership."

"King Arthur was insane?" asked Mifune.

"Well, he was widely considered to be a few fries short of a happy meal, at least," agreed the Holy Sword. "He wanted to overturn the natural order of things: have the strong protect the weak, of all things. Hence, he was already sort of insane... at least by the standards of his own society"

Excalibur met Mifune's eyes, trying to gauge his reaction—which was no easy task, considering the Samurai rarely changed expression.

"... truth be told," the sentient weapon continued, "my guess about GLaDOS is solely based off the fact that she told me her true meister is an amnesiac, unable to recall any of her life from over a year ago."

Glancing away again, the Holy Sword moved onto his main point. "And Chrona... well, she's a doormat. Or, at least, she was for most of her life, and she knows what it's like. After Medusa's death, she seems better, of course, but she still knows what it is to lose your will to another. Hence, she is his true meister. Whether she would have been so had Medusa not forced their partnership upon them is less certain, but the end result is what counts, I suppose."

"Just to be clear," began Mifune. "You're saying I'm _not_ a true meister for you or either of the others?"

"I didn't mean to insult—" began the Holy Sword.

"—not at all," interrupted Mifune. "It's no offence or insult whatsoever. I have no desire to lose my sanity for the sake of an unbruised ego."

Excalibur nodded in understanding.

"My personality has never been well-suited to partnership with a sentient weapon," the Samurai explained. "Or any living weapon, for that matter. I practice the infinite sword style, so using a single weapon has never been something I'd even consider... what I meant to convey is that deception could be mutually beneficial, as Lord Death is trying to force some of the Death Scythes to partner with me. Neither party is very enthusiastic about the idea... but there's not much we can do about it. He's their leader and I'm only there by his good graces."

"Then this might work well for the both of us," said Excalibur. "I'll likely still break out the song and dance routine, to ensure maximum mental scarring, but I'll try and do it when you're not around."

"Sounds good," said Mifune. "I'm going to go make sure Angela's not doing anything too dangerous. I suppose I'll see you later, Holy Sword."

"'Meister'," returned Excalibur, giving a rather extravagant flourish of his cane, which bespoke greater enthusiasm than he'd yet displayed in their conversation. It had been awhile since he'd really let himself cut loose in the annoyance department.

In the Time Wasters Society, Sapphire and Silver both shivered. After a few hundred years of living in the same cave as the Holy Sword, you just started to develop an instinct for these sorts of things.

The two of them exchanged a dark, knowing glance, and stole out of the room, remarking on how they needed to go see a guy about a thing.

* * *

As the Samurai made his way back to find his daughter, Azusa drew her sight back to her immediate surroundings: the Time Waster's Society, where she was surrounded by three of her comrades: Marie, Justin, and Vajra.

The trio of weapons who weren't using senrigan eyes to spy on people were pretending to have a serious discussion, as a distraction and to keep people from becoming too suspicious of them.

Three sets of eyes turned towards her. "Well?" asked Law, seeing her attention focused on them.

"He is a good man, I believe," said Yumi. "But partnership of any sort will be difficult."

She didn't elaborate. When one had the ability to spy on anyone within no small radius of oneself, one soon learned to be discrete.

Law nodded, considering this new intelligence. Vajra and Marie exchanged a glance, looking slightly relieved and very thoughtful.

"Also," said Yumi, drawing their attention once more. "We are colleagues," she told them. "We help each other, merely on principle. If you're ever uncertain about matters of sight, feel free to ask. I often forget that others don't have senrigan." She gave a small cough. "Otherwise I would have cleared up confusion about Fujioka's gender before it became socially awkward." Was that a glint of amusement in her serious eyes?

Marie looked rather embarrassed, and, for a moment, they were all silent.

"Then... Chrona's a girl, right?" asked Vajra, taking advantage of Azusa's offer.

"Yes," confirmed Yumi.

"Knew it," muttered the Demon Fist Iron. "Fork it over, Law," she said, turning to the Guillotine.

"My god, my god..." lamented Justin Law, gazing balefully skyward, "Why have you forsaken me?"

Then, with a huge sigh, he handed Vajra five dollars.

"'My god'?" asked Marie raising an eyebrow.

"...only made that bet because Shinigami-sama himself told me Chrona was male..." Law was muttering to himself.

Azusa's expression froze. The eyes of a Shinigami... surely they were at least as good as her own?

Vajra was also disturbed by the oversight. "It's possible he was just messing with Law..." she said.

"He doesn't lie to us," said Marie, wide-eyed, shooting that idea down. She shook her head. "That means he really doesn't know," she marveled.

"Should we do anything about this?" asked Vajra, looking uncomfortable. "How would we even bring it up...?"

"I believe," said Law, after a moment's consideration, "that if we inform the Kid-kun, or perhaps younger Death Scythes, of the problem, the issue will resolve itself, in due time."

They paused, envisioning the many, many scenarios which might arise from such a course of action.

Three Death Scythes nodded in agreement.

* * *

AN:

So, I'm just calling Mifune and Angela 'Father' and 'Daughter' without the 'adopted' prefix. Hope this doesn't bother anyone.

Also... Vajra.

At the end of the Soul Eater Anime, Asura threw up his weapon before he died. We never saw what became of that weapon, I don't believe, but I'd like to think they had a happy ending. What remains is to give them a human appearance and personality.

So, the weapon looked like a vajra, which isn't an English word, but sounds vaguely like it could be a feminine name to me. So I'm writing the weapon as a woman named Vajra. For her last name... well that I stole from the Yadava Dynasty.

And, according to Wikipedia, a vajra is a kind of fist iron associated with both Hinduism and Buddhism. So, I think I'm leaning towards her being a Thai woman or an Indian woman, though there are many other possibilities for ethnicity.

Of course... me being the culture-blind American that I am, I can't differentiate between most of them, and if I write anything offensive then please, please call me out on it.

Heh, I already know I butcher Japanese honorifics, but since it's taking place in America... in Nevada, no less... I don't feel as bad about that one. I probably should, though.


	29. Chapter 29

After leaving Excalibur, Mifune stood outside the door to the Time Wasters' Society. He paused, highly suspecting that he wouldn't like what he saw inside.

Then again, whatever might be happening in his absence was still happening, whether or not he was there to facepalm over it. He twisted the handle and shoved the door open.

The sight that greeted him was a new one: Angela was wielding one of the Ouran weapons: Renge Houshakuji he thought, since he was almost positive that she was the Demon Video Game Controller. Mifune hadn't actually seen what it was Renge's weapon form could do, but seeing the eager glint in Angela's eyes, as she took aim at an apple perched atop Kirimi Nekozawa's head, only served to heighten the Samurai's worries about the situation. Whether the Cat Witch was aware of what was happening or not was unclear, as she was engrossed in a manga.

At the sound of his entry, Angela's head swiveled towards him. Her eyes widened and she took a breath to explain.

"No," said Mifune.

"But—"

"No, Angie. Humans are not for target-practice."

"But Kirimi's—"

"And neither are Witches."

"Hmph."

Mifune turned to the quartet of Kasanoda, the two Fujiokas, and the elder Nekozawa.

"Well?" he asked, seeing that they were completely aware of what was happening, but hadn't done anything about it.

Ryoji Fujioka shrugged, a touch of melancholy in his eyes. "Making mistakes is part of growing up," he said. "If you keep kids on a tight leash, that just means they make 'em when you aren't there to help."

"Besides," said Haruhi, "We're _Witches_. Living weapons don't do much more damage to us than a paint-ball gun would do to a human." She looked thoughtful for a moment, considering what she'd just said. "As a matter of fact..."

Mifune sighed. "Maybe next week," he said, not wanting to deal with a fire-fight today. "Angela, why don't you and Kirimi go watch a movie or something?"

The two girls exchanged a quick glance with each other before the Chameleon Witch replied with a cheerful, "Okay, dad!" and scampered off to find a TV, Kirimi in tow.

The Samurai frowned, thinking they'd agreed far too quickly to be normal, but shrugged it off as something he probably wasn't going to figure out until the authority figures caught her in the act.

He shook his head slightly to clear it, and turned back to the Witches. Since he was Angela's caretaker, as they were Kirimi's, they'd developed something of a rapport.

"Still feeling like shit?" he asked, as one might a fellow warrior who'd been injured in battle.

Nekozawa frowned at the coarse language, but nodded. "Wounds of the heart," he muttered, "There are some things even curses cannot cure."

"It's more weird than it is anything else," complained Kasanoda. "Feels like someone's died, but everyone's still here."

"Well," said Haruhi, budding psychiatrist. "That makes sense, to some degree. I mean, human beings give parts of their souls to each other all the time: whenever two lovers kiss, two friends become blood-siblings, or the bonds of actual family are formed," she said, paraphrasing one of the books she'd read a few years ago.

Sensing the eyes of the other four on her, she elaborated.

"And if you lose the person to whom you've entrusted part of yourself, you lose that part of your soul," the Dragon Witch continued. "We gave up part of our souls to create a Death Scythe. The causes are different, but the actions and results are exactly the same."

"How bad is it?" asked Mifune.

"Well, if you want to quantify grief..." said Haruhi, looking mildly amused at the concept. "I'd say... worse than losing a colleague probably, but not as bad as a sibling. We'll be fine... but we're not about to take on any significant responsibilities until we're more normal, since a wounded soul is more likely to fall into darkness."

Mifune nodded in understanding, and then wracked his brains for something that might comfort one in pseudo-mourning.

"Want to eat comfort food and watch a sappy movie?" he suggested.

"Yes," said Ryoji immediately.

Haruhi, Kasanoda and Nekozawa's expressions weren't as easy to read, but they did follow them from the room.

* * *

"So," said Kirimi, as they watched the opening credits to "Batman" roll across the screen. "Any luck with your powers?"

"Kind of," said Angela. "Apparently, whatever was in those woods, it brought on the Sway of Magic much earlier than normal... and awakened my full powers."

"Really? So, you'll be able to go invisible again, and not just copy other people's looks?" asked Kirimi.

"I think so," replied the Chameleon Witch, turning her attention to the screen, where a tourist family was being mugged in an alleyway.

"Ha!" said Umehito from behind them. "I love this movie!"

He sat down beside Kirimi and faced the screen with interest.

"Really?" Mifune asked his daughter, raising an eyebrow as he took a seat.

"It was Kirimi's idea," said Angela, automatically.

"Of course it was," said the Panther Witch. "My sister has impeccable taste!"

"Not what I'd call 'sappy'," said Mifune, checking the rating on the case as the Fujiokas and Kasanoda sat down as well, "but I suppose I should be happy it's not worse."

* * *

"Now this is strange." Yumi Azusa straightened her glasses, frowning at the computer screen in front of her.

"Japan?" asked Marie, who wasn't any good at intelligence-gathering, but who had been looking for the teacher's lounge and gotten lost, winding up in Shibusen's ops center. "What's happening in Japan?" asked the Demon Hammer.

"Nothing," replied the Crossbow.

Marie glanced at the monitor, unable to make the slightest bit of sense from the graphs and spreadsheets. "Why is that strange?" she asked.

"There's _always_ something happening in Japan," explained Azusa, who was on exposition autopilot, while the greater part of her mind considered the data before her. "It has the highest ambient madness-wavelength of any country on earth," she told her colleague. "Giant robots, borders between realms that should never be connected, a very high demon population... need I go on?"

"But nothing recently?"

"Nothing," confirmed Yumi.

"Strange," Marie agreed.

* * *

AN: Still no regular update schedule. And, in case anyone has an excellent memory for detail, I usually write using the Rule of Funny, when fleshing out my outlines, then go back and fix logical contradictions when I scan for typos. So if you see something that doesn't make sense, odds are I'll notice it and fix it... eventually.

Also, one of my friends convinced me to watch the 1989 Tim Burton "Batman" movie when we were both about six, so that's drawn from real life. I was very disturbed afterwards. Don't remember whether it was a phenomenal movie or not, just that it was dark and scary, so it seems like something Nekozawa would like, for sheer ambiance if nothing else.


	30. Chapter 30

Two inhuman silhouettes sat in front of a computer screen. Their pointed ears identified them as Cats. Though, other than that, their identities were inscrutable.

A digitally altered photo-marionette of Kyon danced across the screen, flailing his two-dimensional limbs about with marked enthusiasm. His head had been severed along the mouth to allow him to 'sing', which he was doing with great gusto:

Photoshop Kyon:

_"Here we go._

_Why'd I ever agree to this club?_

_I could sleep if I'd only refrained._

_The domain of a goddess quite easily bored,_

_and (more than a little) insane..._

_Haruhi Suzumiya!_

_Our proud fearless leader._

_My cell phone she calls, and I go._

_All the psychos and espers will aid in her rampages_

_far more than she'll ever know._

_Far more than she'll ever know..._

_Onward to madness I go!"_

"I miss Kyon," said Shamisen, looking up from the screen, to glance at his companion. He was a male calico, who had used his talents as the Mocking Bird Cat to impersonate Kyon's (non-existant) singing voice. "If he were here, he'd sigh and tell me that cats shouldn't talk. Or drive. Or use photoshop."

"I miss Koizumi, too" agreed a female calico (also named Shamisen), "When he's around, he pays me to play courier for the organization." She smiled at the memory. "I like being a spy."

"Well," said the guy, briefly meeting her eyes. "I bet I know what'll make you feel better." He pulled up a picture of Koizumi on the computer monitor. "Ta da!" he said.

"Yeah," said Shamisen, flicking one of her ears. "That doesn't help much."

The guy rolled his his eyes."Cut out his head," Shamisen suggested, moving to allow her the chair closer to the mouse. "There are hundreds of things you can do with a picture of someone's head. Have you seen the ugly dance?"

Shamisen shook her head.

"Let me tell you, it's a thing of beauty..."

* * *

Well, Death Scythes or no, Soul, Liz, and Tsubaki were not well-versed in the art of 'fair combat', and, to be perfectly clear, they weren't particularly keen on the whole concept.

They _were_ getting better at predicting Kishin location, by virtue of GLaDOS' measurements of differences in mob re-spawning times in areas they'd left alone for a day or so. By her calculations, they were nearing the next location and had been called out in full force.

"That's this level clear," remarked Tsubaki, blasting the last Witch out of existence, as the corrupted monstrosity tried in vain to flee, using the Demon Bazooka that was Black-Star's weapon-form.

The Shadow Meister drew an arm across her forehead, to mop up the perspiration from their last battle, surveying the, for now, clear hallways of Aperture Science.

"Ouch," remarked Maka, wincing in sympathy with the dying Witch.

"Maka," said Soul, raising an eyebrow, "it's a Kishin-egg. Not really something to cry over... besides, it's already died at least once."

"Yeah," she said. "I know. It just, doesn't seem sporting, I guess..."

Liz shrugged. "We're not in it for the sport. We're just trying to get the job done. If that means ganging up on the weaker party, or attacking a retreating opponent, there's not really a moral conflict: these people lost their right to be treated as anything but animals when they ate human souls for the sake of pleasure."

"I... suppose," said Kid. "But it still doesn't feel right."

"Yeah. I get the same feeling," said Black-Star, nodding in agreement.

Tsubaki sighed. "Not all of us can be warriors," she said. "Part of the whole 'weapon' mentality, I guess: we see the job and how to get it done... but we don't love combat the same way you guys do."

Patty snorted. "Speak for yourself," she said.

* * *

In the same manner, Maka, Black-Star, and Kid were finding the experience of fighting as weapons rather bizarre and unsettling.

"Is it always like this?" Kid asked Patty, seeming rather unnerved, and making every effort not to look at any lower than eye level when speaking to anyone in... wherever it was that weapons' consciousnesses went when they transformed.

"Like what?" asked Patty, not seeing what he could possibly be uncomfortable about.

"We're naked," pointed out Maka, who was adopting the fetal position on the ground, in an effort to preserve what little dignity she had. "And our three meisters are resonating, so we can all see each other."

"So?" asked the younger Thompson.

"It's... weird," said Maka. "Nakedness is a sign of vulnerability. What does it have to do with fighting?"

"You're showing who you really are?" suggested Patty. "Solidifies the bond between weapon and meister? How should I know?"

"You've been doing this longer than we have," Maka pointed out. "Plus you're a Death Scythe now. Doesn't that mean you have access to some sort of mystical Death Scythe wisdom reservoir?"

"If it does, I don't know about it. Besides," she said, "Black-Star seems perfectly okay with it."

Kid glanced at the blue-haired weapon, who was lounging on the ground, hands folded behind his head.

Sensing their eyes on him, he shrugged. "I got nothing to hide," he said.

Maka shook her head, searching her mind for some sort of topic change.

"So, fighting as a weapon takes a lot less concentration than I would have thought," she said. "Did you, Liz, Tsubaki, and Soul used to have conversations about us when we were fighting?"

"Maybe," admitted Patty.

Before Maka could make further inquiries, however, two new weapons appeared in the darkness with them. At first glance, they were unrecognizable, though closer inspection revealed them to be mechanical: meaning that the one with blue lights was likely Wheatley, and the one with green was almost certainly Rick.

"Hate this part of the job," muttered Wheatley.

"See?" said Maka. "I'm not the only one."

"What do you mean?" said Wheatley. "You're still the same as before."

"We don't have clothes," pointed out Maka. "It's really embarrassing."

"At least you still have _skin_," said Wheatley. "Do you know how awful it feels to have your circuits exposed? How would _you_ like to walk around with your organs on the outside?"

"But being naked is a huge social taboo," she said. "It's just as uncomfortable as your situation."

The Adventure Sphere sighed. "Why are they arguing over this?" he asked the person closest to him, who happened to be the Demon Missile Launcher.

"I wanna know why the winner is the one who has it worse," said Black-Star.

"Don't see what the big deal is," said Rick. "I mean, so long as you're honest about who you are..."

"Preachin' to the choir, man," agreed Black-Star, as Maka and Wheatley continued to bicker.

* * *

Atlas and P-body, unlike their organic teammates, were having the time of their lives. And why wouldn't they be? The two of them were doing something useful, rather than running the endless testing tracks, which GLaDOS constructed when she was unable to think of any other experiments to satisfy her 'testing itch', as Wheatley called it.

GLaDOS exploded him every time she heard him do so, as she thought such a phrase sounded undignified, and preferred to refer to her problem as the, 'Aperture Science Enforced Innovation Initiative'.

Yep, it was good to be in the lower levels, and out of reach of their short-tempered boss. It made them happy enough to break out into dance.

Speaking of which, did anyone else hear music?

* * *

AN: You can tell I'm up to my eyeballs in RL stuff that I should be doing instead of having fun, can't you?

Well, in my defense, the last few updates have been shorter/less frequent than usual.

That's the main reason I'm still on break from this story.

Also, I would assume that anyone offended by my butchery of famous musicals dropped off after chapter 20, so I think I'm safe on that front. Random BLAM moment was to the tune of "I, Don Quixote" from Man of La Mancha.


	31. Chapter 31

You wouldn't have guessed it at first glance, but Hina Kamishiro and Tohru Suzushima actually had a lot in common with each other.

Their differences, of course, were obvious. For one, Hina was an Elementary School aged girl, and Tohru a High School guy. For another, they'd both stepped through different portals, when returning to headquarters: Tohru's had originated in England, Hina's in Germany.

And even when you looked at the similarities...well, both were members of the Ouran Alliance Covert Operations Section... though Tohru specialized in sabotage while Hina's skills lay in reconnaissance. Both were quiet, though Hina's silence in conversation stemmed from the fact that she was more than a little shy, whereas Tohru was simply boring.

In actions, however, they seemed to be perfectly synchronized. They'd both chosen the same weekend to come visit the Alliance, and the first thing on both of their minds, upon getting back, was that it would be a very good thing to go and visit their significant other.

And so, after making small-talk for a minute or two with each other outside the main gates of the alliance, Tohru and Hina parted ways with a cursory promise to catch up when they both had more time.

Hina had gone straight to the recreational section and asked if anyone knew where Shiro had gone off to.

Tohru asked one of the sentries if he had the slightest idea where Kanako could be.

And so, after a few minutes, the two spies met again, both apparently heading for the same room in the recreational wing of the compound.

"Kamishiro?" asked Tohru.

"Suzushima?" asked Hina. "I was just looking around for Shiro,"

"And I for Kanako," returned the guy. "I was told that she was—"

"—part of a new society that had started in our absence?" hazarded Hina.

"Yes," agreed Tohru. "How odd. I didn't think those two knew each other."

"I know Shiro's never mentioned Kasugazaki," confirmed Hina.

Reaching the door, Tohru opened the door and gestured for the younger girl to enter first. "Let's get to the root of it then, shall we?" he suggested.

Hina nodded. "Sounds like a plan," she agreed.

When they turned their attention to what was happening through the doorway, however, they were forced to stand there for just a moment, in pure disconcertion.

On the other hand, _we_ are not Tohru and Hina, and as such have the luxury of turning back the clock to track the day from the beginning. Let's say about six hours, shall we? Excellent...

* * *

Six Hour Earlier:

"Ground Rules," said Umehito Nekozawa, pacing along the line of people who stood before him. "No magic against those not Witches, no anti-madness attacks against those not human, no madness attacks against those not Clowns. There are no set teams. Alliances are acceptable, but are formed at the sole discretion of the parties involved. Anything non-lethal goes—though if you're pointlessly cruel, we'll ban you from future games. Any questions?"

"Why do we have to use these crappy weapons?" asked Kaoru, waving his nerf-gun for emphasis. "Ouran is practically a living arsenal in and of itself." Hikaru nodded in agreement. Behind them, Hani and Mori exchanged a glance.

"One," said Kasanoda. "Ohtori will kill us, if we wreck the place. Two: not everyone can shrug off a blast of soul-wavelength like it's nothing. Three: living weapons aren't equal in strength, and we're trying to create a level playing-field here, not turn this into a brawl. You want I should keep going?" he asked.

"Nah," said Hero, "We get the idea." He and the rest of Team Halberd were participating, though Chrona and Ragnarok had refused to ally with them, for some reason.

"So, we get our missions from Nekozawa?" asked Renge, who was heading up a group of the Ouran Weapons that most players anticipated joining the undead five minutes into the game.

"From Nekozawa and Leon," confirmed Haruhi, gesturing to the two young Witches.

"_Kirimi _ Nekozawa? I thought—so, you're playing then?" asked Anya, speaking to Umehito.

"Of course," said the elder of the Witch siblings.

"That explains why we're Team Unicorn," muttered Hikaru. "Normally the two teams are Zombies and _Humans_..."

"Why can't we play this when Team Albarn's here?" asked Marcus. "I know for a fact that Black-Star would go crazy for something like this."

"Team Albarn doesn't know the meaning of the term 'friendly combat'," said Excalibur. "The timing of this event has most likely taken this into consideration."

"So, you're worried they'll destroy the place?" hazarded a demon, whom no one could remember inviting to the event.

"Precisely," Nekozawa said. "Four of them are Death Scythes. I shudder to think what could happen."

"Okay," answered, Tsugumi, nodding her head. "We're ready. Let's do this."

Angela stepped forward. "Fighting starts in a half an hour," she said.

"These two," said Kirimi, gesturing to Chrona and Ragnarok. "Are our original Zombies. After thirty minutes, they'll be free to come and go as they please. Hiding would be a good idea. If you survive the first hour, we'll contact you with mission parameters."

"Twenty-nine minutes and thirty seconds now, until combat start," commented Angela. "Let the first annual Ouran/Shibusen Zombies versus Unicorns Game commence!"

The players scattered.

* * *

Well, Chrona and Ragnarok weren't entirely familiar with the recreational wing of the Ouran Fortress, where they currently found themselves. From general wandering, they were able to ascertain that it contained a few gyms and shooting ranges, and hadn't had enough time to know much else. However, they did have one major advantage that had allowed them to get the game moderators to bend the rules and include two original Zombies instead of one.

Simply put, though they now possessed two bodies instead of one, there was still no conceivable way to separate Chrona from Ragnarok. Or Ragnarok from Chrona for that matter. Chrona was meister to a sentient weapon and, as such, she had some measure of awareness over his general location and mood at all times. Perhaps more significantly, she was also one of the few people he would actually listen to.

And Ragnarok had been part of Chrona for so long that there was never going to be any way of separating them permanently. The black-blood that flowed through her veins was still under his control. It was her weapon and, therefore, it was also a part of him.

Thus, there was no way to put one them on opposite sides of a fight. For, while most people are perfectly capable of betraying themselves, it is not easy, and one of them would just end up betraying their own side, anyway, to join the other.

For now, though, they weren't doing their mod-given-duty as flesh-eaters: to tag all the members of Team Unicorn they could find. Instead, Ragnarok was watching Excalibur, their first target, while he waited for Chrona to make her way around to position to form a pincer and trap the other sentient weapon.

The Holy Sword, as it turned out, was unleashing his trademark brand of horror on a group of Ouran Weapons, who weren't actually involved in their game of Zombies Versus Unicorns. Excalibur pirouetted with uncanny grace as he sang a song of his own composition. Students watched in horrified fascination, unable to take their eyes off the the manifestation of all things of annoying and arrogant, due to the sheer shock of the situation.

Ragnarok had to repress a snort as he caught a few versus of the song. Apparently, the younger Law was a bad influence on Excalibur. At least, judging from the latest set of lyrics the Holy Sword had come up with:

_"Reverence!"_ belted out Excalibur,

_"Bow when you see me coming!_

_Follow me, I will lead you..._

_On to glory and fame!_

_if you find me,_

_The weapon of which legends are told..._

_Then your true life_

_Will begin._

_Hear me!_

_I'm the sword who is holy..."_

Yep, definitely Law's fault. Though, considering how much Excalibur liked West Side Story, Ragnarok supposed it had only been a matter of time before the Holy Sword had watched Cats...

And it wasn't as though Excalibur ever came up with his own tunes, anyway. His 'going to California' riff had been stolen from some 15th century drinking song or other, if he wasn't mistaken. Ah, the old days... Now _those_ had been interesting.

Terrifying, but definitely interesting.

"Two swords, brothers and enemies," he believed, had been the start of the prophecy regarding the two of them. So much for _that_. He hadn't let destiny rule his actions during the round table incident, and he wasn't about to start now.

Ah, Chrona was in position now, he could tell. Time to start.

She lunged for the Holy Sword, catching him off-guard in mid-dance-step. Without blinking, Excalibur shot her with a foam dart from his gun, and then leveled his cane at the black-blooded meister, who was now out of the game for the next ten minutes.

Excalibur drew breath to launch into a lecture.

All the watching weapons flinched in anticipation.

That was when Ragnarok quietly stole over and tagged him.

"Ha," said the Holy Sword, glancing at his comrade. "I should have known."

Then, he transferred his electric blue headband from his arm to his forehead, becoming one of the Zombies.

"Let us go, my undead kindred," he said.

Ragnarok snickered.

Screw destiny, he'd fight beside whoever he damn well wanted to.

* * *

Speaking of people who were indistinguishable, the Hitachin twins were also having fun with the game. They had allied with Haruhi, of course, as well as Hani, Mori, and Tamaki. They were lounging in a safe-zone, with the other cowardly/cautious member of Team Unicorn, playing it safe until it was time to take on their first mission.

The two of them didn't need words to speak to each other, but if they had been using them, their mental conversation would have gone something like this:

"Wonder when 'Kid the Death' gets back," thought Hikaru.

"He's almost as fun to mess with as Haruhi. Shame he's not here," thought Kaoru.

"He's stupid. How is that guy, of all people, able to tell us apart?"

"'Two different people'... ha! Guy has no idea what he's talking about."

Their minds turned towards memories of madness and insanity, back before they'd become a Clown... when there had been only one son of the Hitachin family.

"We're the same person, just in two bodies," they thought together. "Our minds differ only because these two bodies have had different experiences, in the time we've been separated. Even Haruhi can't tell which is which by looks. We're the same soul."

"Two different people," the words echoed in their heads. They considered them, a moment, weighing possibilities.

"Hey, look," said Kaoru. "Suoh put his foot in his mouth again."

With a shared smirk, the Hitachin brothers moved, in perfect unison, over to their latest diversion, leaving troublesome thoughts behind them.

* * *

A few minutes later, Kyoya Ohtori walked into the room.

"I do not want to know what's going on," he said, cutting off the forthcoming stream of lies and/or excuses. "Or what sort of idiotic game you're playing. And no, Tamaki, I do not want to join your team. Just keep the destruction to a minimum and consider me happy."

"Hi, Kyo-chan!" said Hani.

Mori nodded in greeting.

"Gentlemen," said Kyoya, giving a nod of his head in acknowledgement.

"You project going well?" asked the diminutive blond Death Scythe.

"Exceedingly so," said Ohtori. "Just finalizing a few of the details. Have you seen Nekozawa, by chance?"

"Die in darkness, Zombie scum!" came a cry from the Witch in question.

Those in the room turned to see a disappointed Ragnarok slinking away, tossing the dart which had hit him back at the Coven Leader, who had fired it.

"Ah, nevermind," said Kyoya. He left the room after that, to follow after the Witch before he became embroiled in another fight.

The two Death Scythes exchanged a glance.

"Kyo-chan really needs to learn to have fun, Takashi," said Hani.

"He already knows how, Mitsukuni," said Mori.

"I mean fun that doesn't involve money or people dying," clarified Hani.

"Yeah," agreed Mori. "That'd be a good thing."

Though, to to be honest, it wasn't really unexpected that Kyoya wasn't the most easy-going of people. He was certainly one of the happier Shinigami, which was kind of terrifying, when you thought about it.

But Kyoya would always be their friend, of course, even if he stayed a stick-in-the-mud for the rest of eternity. On the other hand, if they could get him to take at least one thing less seriously than a life-or-death matter before the year was out, then Ritsu Kasanoda would owe them twenty dollars, so they were taking every opportunity to lighten their fearless leader's outlook on life. Besides, Kyoya had helped them, all those years ago, when they'd been thrown into the harsh world of the Death Emperor's Army without so much as a word of advice, so this was really the least they could do in return.

* * *

"Your first mission," said Angela. "Is to run these supplies over to the poor, helpless Unicorns under siege in the residential wing," she said, gesturing to a cart laden with concrete.

"Cinder-blocks?" asked one of the Ouran weapons.

"They're metaphorical cinder-blocks," said Angela. "They represent food, water, and other necessities."

"Couldn't we have metaphorical empty boxes?" asked another.

"No," said Kirimi. "We like this better."

Kasanoda met Umehito's eyes. "She gets it from you," he accused.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," said the elder Nekozawa, unfazed.

As they made their way through the hallway, Tsugumi Harudori, who had been Zombified by Excalibur half an hour into gameplay, leapt from an alcove and tried to tag Kasanoda. She was taken out by a casual shot from Haruhi.

Ritsu sighed in relief. "Thanks," he said.

"No problem," returned the Dragon Witch.

Bringing up the rear of their impromptu caravan were Marcus Law and Hero Swordson. They were debating the logistics of the game, which was, quite possibly, the nerdiest course of action they could've take at that point.

"I'm just saying," said Hero, "If we're Unicorns, then shouldn't we be able to heal the Zombies?"

"I don't care what they say, we're Team Human," said Marcus. "We're following the standard rules, there's no reason to have a different name."

"And shouldn't the Zombies be 'Zombie-Unicorns', since they're converting Unicorns?"

"That's humanist," said Marcus. "Are you saying that only human Zombies are allowed to use the word 'Zombie' without a qualifier?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"Insensitive speciest," muttered Marcus.

They probably would have continued their bickering, except for that was the moment Chrona, launched into the air by Ragnarok, landed on them both, knocking them to the ground, and successfully tagging Marcus and Hero.

"Run!" shouted Tamaki.

* * *

They lost a few of the Ouran weapons to the ambush, but nearly all of them made it through. Renge had even formed a group of guerrillas who went ahead a a scouting party, clearing all the Zombies they could find from their path.

There had been a few moments of panic when they thought they'd lost Belzenef and Blair, only to discover the two of them had been hiding on the cart, and had no intention of getting off to walk when they could get a free ride.

"I didn't even realize you were playing," said Nekozawa.

"Blair," said Belzenef. It was the only explanation he needed. "You?"

"Well, my dear little sister is one of the the game moderators. Though I would have played anyway. How can you not want to play a Zombie-killing combat game?"

"Very easily," returned the Cat.

He paused a moment. "How are you so upbeat all the time?" asked Belzenef. "You're a photophobic Witch. Everything I know about magic says that's a recipe for a recluse."

"How could I be unhappy?" he asked. "I have a sister; I have a Coven. Certainly, there was a time... but since Kirimi was revealed as a Witch, I've learned to look on the dark side of life, if I may turn a phrase. "

"The dark—ah yes, of course," Belzenef said. Obviously 'the bright side' wasn't a favorable place, in Nekozawa's worldview.

After dropping the cart at the designated point, and finding themselves ambushed by another horde of Zombies, most of whom were Ouran weapons, picked off by the other Zombies as easy targets. They lost Umehito Nekozawa to the horde, seeing as he has taken the opportunity to die in as spectacular a manner as possible, spouting one-liners from action movies until the undead became too many for him and he joined their ranks.

In retrospect, that was probably why he'd offered to sacrifice himself so the rest of them could get away. Given the choice, there was no way the Panther Witch would have picked Team Unicorn over Team Zombie.

Hearing the first low chuckles of Zombie Nekozawa, the rest of them got the heck out of there, wondering what exactly they'd just allowed to be created.

And, whether it was due to treachery or merely carelessness, the Unicorn population rapidly dwindled after that. Especially when Kirimi made it a mission to trap one of the original Zombies for study and possible development of a cure.

They'd lost Renge on that one, and they hadn't been able to hold Chrona for more than two minutes, anyway.

* * *

The final group of survivors had made their last stand in the recreational wing, in their normal club-room actually, where they'd been trapped. There were Haruhi and the Hitachins, who normally fought as a team, regardless of the fact that all three of them were considered meisters (so long as pre-Kishins were destroyed, who was going to care whether their souls had been eaten by a weapon or by a ravening Clown?); Hani and Mori, the Death Scythe duo, were stoic and serious; Tamaki wasn't there, as he had sacrificed himself by lunging between a Zombie and Haruhi a few minutes ago. Even after his transformation into a Zombie, he hadn't come out of his corner of misery, where he'd retreated to sulk, once he'd realized he and the Dragon Witch were no longer on the same team.

At any rate, it was likely only a matter of time before they succumbed to the inevitable and joined the growing numbers of the undead. The five survivors had actually slipped into soul resonance, regardless of the fact that they were wielding plastic guns that shot foam darts. Their only real hope, at this point, was to shoot every last one of them in the space of ten minutes, and then run for it to find a new place to hide. By their speed version of the rules, if the Zombies went without turning a Unicorn to their own side for an hour, they starved to death. If they could just manage to stall, there was every reason to believe they could still win.

Unfortunately, it was at this critical time that Hina and Tohru chose to make their entrance. It wasn't a loud noise when they opened the door to the club-room, but it was loud enough to distract the last five Unicorns, since there was a possibility it might have been reinforcements. The members of Team Unicorn all looked to see who had entered, as did most of the Zombies. However, the demon, Decay, did not. The moment the five survivors' attention wavered, he charged straight in and tagged them all, ending the game, and gaining a victory for Team Zombie.

However, this was drowned out amidst twin cries of delight from an elementary school Meister and a High School aged weapon.

"Tohru!" cried Kanako Kasugazaki.

"Hina!" yelled Shiro Takaoji.

Tohru Suzushima still hadn't gotten over the surprise of the spectacle he'd just witnessed and remained silent.

Hina Kamishiro, on the other hand, ran over and glomped her boyfriend. "Shiro!" she said. "It's great to see you again. What're you guys doing?"

"Team-building exercise," he said.

"Really?"

"No, but if anyone asks, that what we're telling them."

"Just what's happened to this place in the time we've been gone?" asked Tohru.

"Come on," said Kanako, with a smile. "I'll introduce you to everyone."

* * *

That evening:

"Hey, has anyone seen Team Death Scythe lately?" asked Haruhi. "Have they even come to Ouran yet?"

"Their stuff is all here, but I haven't seen them for the past four days," answered Kasanoda.

"Should we be worried?" asked Tamaki.

"Not in the least!" came a voice.

They turned to see seven people enter the room. They looked as though they'd recently walked through a heavy rain... that is, if rain were made of blood.

"Fear not, small people!" said the Assassin of the group "I, the great Black-Star, have returned to my former glory! If you find yourself unable to look directly at my radiance, I'll be handing out sunglasses later..."

"Where have you been, and what have you been killing?" asked Hikaru and Kaoru.

"Aperture and monsters with corrupt souls," answered Death the Kid.

"Pre-Kishins?" asked Haruhi.

"And Witches. You're looking at the first team in Shibusen history to be composed entirely of Death Scythes!"

"That was... fast," admitted Nekozawa. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but four days ago, you had six souls between the three of you. You're telling me now that you're Death Scythes?"

"Well, yeah," said Patty with a shrug. "When it comes to power-leveling through three Death Scythe formations? There's no better team than us. If you want someone who won't destroy Chicago, on the other hand, you might want to look elsewhere. We're awesome at binge soul-hunting. Just not so great at keeping them afterwards."

"Like an eating disorder," offered Hikaru.

"Kid's gained and lost souls like a revolving door," continued Black-Star, ignoring him, "Tsubaki and me got a hundred and seventy five of those suckers before we had to split up, and Maka and Soul had to get two hundred souls the hard way before Soul could become a Death Scythe."

"You and Tsubaki? Maka and _Soul_?" said Haruhi. "Okay, I know you're all cagey about who's paired with who in your team, for whatever reason, but why would two weapons partner with each other? A group of three or four, I can see, especially if one of them's as Death Scythe, but two seems to be pushing it."

Maka and Soul exchanged a glance. "We actually thought you'd have found out by now," he said. "It's not exactly a secret, and everyone in Shibusen already knows. Did you ever ask Team Halberd about it? They could have told you," said Soul.

"They told us you were werewolf ninjas," said Hani. "We didn't believe them,"

Maka just managed to keep a straight face. "Soul and I have always been partners," she explained. "I'm actually a meister."

"Yeah right," said Kasanoda. "We've seen you transform."

"I'm a weapon too," she said, "But my preferred fighting style has always been that of a technician."

"The same goes for Black-Star and myself," added Kid. "We entered the DWMA in order to create Death Scythes and earn eternal glory. This whole... weapon deal... just sort of happened."

"How does an inborn ability 'just sort of happen'?" asked Haruhi, suspicion evident in her tone.

"When you piss off a couple of Witches, that's how," answered Black-Star.

There was silence after that.

"You mean..." began Tamaki. "You three were _turned into_ weapons?"

"Yeah?" said Maka, not sure why he was so freaked out. "Though, now that we're Death Scythes, we're strong enough to be meisters again, so that's awesome."

"I've regained all of my Shinigami abilities," said Kid, summoning his skateboard for the ever-loving heck of it. "And these two have all their old strengths again. I literally cannot describe how satisfactory this situation is."

"Essentially," said Liz, turning to face the six Ouran Alliance members, "you've only ever seen these three at their weakest. As ordinary wielders, they were the strongest students in the entire school, and were probably in the top ten overall, including faculty. Now they're meisters with the powers of Death Scythes."

"And I like a break as much as the next guy," admitted Black-Star, "But now we're back, and ready to rock this place."

"God have mercy on us all," muttered Excalibur.

"What?" asked Hani.

"I said, 'now it's time for a song!'" said the Holy Sword, noting how, five seconds after his announcement, all the members of Team Albarn were no longer in the room. Some of them having gone so far as to use portals to hasten their escape.

"Fools!" he called out at a retreating Patty, who threw him a wink as she left.

Then, he began to sing.

* * *

AN: I try to post something every now and then, just to let you guys know I'm still alive. So, here's a game of Humans Vs. Zombies. If anyone wants to know the rules, they're on the internet. Kept bringing up Unicorns in reference to an anthology edited by Holly Black and Justine Larbalestier.


	32. Chapter 32

"Nyan-Nyan! Nyan-Nyan! nyan-Nyan-nyan-Nyan! Nyan! Nyan-nyan-Nyan-nyan-Nyan-nyan-Nyan-nyan-Nyan-nyan- Nyan-nyan-Nyan-nyan-Nyan-nyan-Nyan-nyan..."

"Blair," began Belzenef, "if you don't shut up, I swear to God I'm going to start screaming, and I won't stop until everyone within earshot, including me, has gone _deaf_."

"...Nyan-nyan-nyan-nyan..."

Belzenef groaned.

He then sucked in a breath, not about to go back on his word.

"You could just leave, you know," suggested Ragnarok, looking up from where he and Excalibur were conspiring on something that would probably annoy the crap out of anyone in a twenty yard radius, once they'd finished with it. Right now it just looked like half a soccer ball and a gutted TV, but, after seeing what they'd done with the Lord Death's old orrery, no one was about to deny them the benefit of the doubt.

Belzenef thought it over. "You know something? You're _right_. Forget species-solidarity, I'm outta here."

* * *

He went over to where Tsugumi, Anya, and Meme were wasting time on a computer.

Perhaps this would prove worthy of his interest.

On the screen, a cartoon Maka-meister stood with Soul-scythe.

Suddenly a sickly man wrapped in bandages ran at her, screaming something along the lines of, "Kishin-octogon-a-pus-blarggghhh!" and shooting a laser at the pair of them from his mouth.

"Friendship resonance!" yelled drawing-Maka.

Screen-Asura exploded in an onomatopoeia that sounded suspiciously like, 'evil-splode'.

_Then again_, thought Belzenef, _perhaps not_.

"They don't call me Meme for nothing!" remarked the strawberry blonde meister, a somewhat vacant expression on her face.

She then frowned. "My name is Meme, right?"

* * *

In the next room, Hero and Marcus were bragging for their fangirls.

"Well, obviously," said Marcus. "_I'm_ Juliet."

"You wanna be the girl?" asked Hero.

"The _original_ only had male actors, you know. Besides, I play the role that fits the situation. Excalibur was your Rosaline, before realizing you were meant to be my tech. And this means Justin's the Capulet Patriarch. Heh."

"'Juliet' is the least manly name ever."

"A real man knows he's manly, even if he's wearing makeup."

"Kyaaa!" squealed Renge. "How tragic! Two partners, separated by social status, only to defy the odds and unite the Not and Eat Factions! This can only end in tragedy, but I can't bring myself to care: it's so beautiful!"

The Ouran Alliance, though it did have a great number of weapons, also included a fair amount of humans, especially medical practitioners and other professionals who refused to go along with the Death Emperor's way of doing things. In many ways, in constituted a microcosm... but it really couldn't compete with the rest of the world, in terms of entertainment. Any gossip, such as the Not/Eat partnership of Marcus Law and Hero Swordson, the only such partnership in Shibusen's history, was eagerly lapped up by drama-starved fangirls.

Belzenef barely even slowed down on his trek through the room.

* * *

In the next room Haruhi and Chrona were dressed as guys, talking with an oblivious Tamaki Suoh, huge grins across their faces, obviously seeing how long they could keep the ruse going without the blond's realizing something was up.

On the other side of the room, Kirimi and Angela had managed to get ahold of paintball guns, so he got out of there pretty fast. "Would you like to see a poem I wrote?" was the last thing he heard any of them say, before entering the next room.

* * *

In this room, Death the Kid was reading through a script:

_I am the very model of a modern raper of the dead_

_My skateboard's named Beelzebub, I've three white lines upon my head._

_My father's kind of wacky, so it's up to me to keep things sane_

_for as a god of death this puny world will soon be my domain!_

Kid coughed, frowning at the paper.

_Well,_ he thought,_ that_ _was an embarrassing typo_. He'd have to point it out to Maka later. When Black-Star wasn't around to bust a gut over it.

He read down to the next verse... only to see the misspelling again, and in every instance thereafter.

What was going on? Either she'd used copy-and-paste on the first line to create the others, he was looking at the world's most embarrassing Freudian slip... or, he realized with dawning horror, it _might not be a typo_.

With utmost discomfort, Kid glanced up at Maka, who was grinning.

"Awesome, right?" asked the scythe meister.

"You wrote this, Maka?" asked Kid.

"Yep!"

"By yourself?"

"Yeah?"

"No one else helped you?"

"Of course not! So... what do you think?"

"Uh..."

"Hey, Maka," complained Black-Star, "don't be so uptight! I totally edited that for you!"

"What?" said Maka, frowning at the Assassin. "No, you didn't."

"Yeah, I did. You left it open, so I fixed some of your spelling mistakes."

Maka leaned in and read over Kid's shoulder.

"Um, Black-Star?" she said.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"That word was actually supposed to have two 'E's."

Black-Star looked at the words again.

"Oh," he said. "_Reaper_."

Belzenef paused, stifling a snicker. This was certainly amusing, but after Blair's performance, he wasn't really in the mood to hang around musicians. He tried the next room.

* * *

There he found Soul, Liz, Patty, and Tsubaki talking with the Hitachins, Hani, and Mori.

"This is gonna be such a pain to organize," complained Patty.

"That's why we're asking you guys for help," said Hani.

_Finally_, he thought with relish. _Sane people_.

"Hello," said Belzenef, to the room's occupants. "What's going on?"

"Belzenef!" said Tsubaki, giving him a smile. "Just the Cat we wanted to see... How are you with event-planning?"

* * *

In the Kishin-verse, Yuki Nagato was revising her personnel files.

After a few centuries, most Shinigami tended to turn into chessmasters, so it really wasn't that unusual an activity, all things considered. After learning of the existence of other universes, she'd altered the data of her own world so as to allow access to their internet, and had pulled up two files, which she was examining, side by side.

One was of her beloved brigade leader.

The other was of a pretty girl in a black cloak.

Their first names were both highlighted.

It was probably a coincidence... but then again, you could never really be sure...

* * *

The next day:

Getting back from their first successful mission as a team (also their first mission undertaken) Team Halberd was taken off-guard by an object lying on the floor of the Death Weapon Meister Academy.

It was a metal cube: each side adorned with a small, pink heart.

Tsugumi, Anya, Meme, Hero couldn't help but melt a little. "Oh my gosh," said Tsugumi, "it has hearts on it!"

Chrona grinned. "Look at all the corners!"

Ragnarok was impressed "Looks heavy," he noted. "You could totally bash in someone's head in with this thing!"

Marcus wasn't that interested. "Meh," was his only comment.

The cube then turned into a core, with a flash of light much like that which accompanied a weapon's transformation, and began a song.

Marcus' eyes lit up. "Oh my gosh, it sings!"

"Welcome to Team Halberd, Mr. Cube," said Tsugumi.

The core, which was white with a red optic, played a happy little fanfare at the prospect.

"That might not be such a great idea," cautioned Stein, who was seated on his swivel-chair of awesome, observing the scene before him.

"Why?" asked Hero.

"He was dumped through a portal by a disdainful GLaDOS. Apparently, the core's not welcome in Aperture, anymore. And from the look of his soul, that guy's nearly insane."

"He has a soul?" asked Anya. "But he's a robot!"

"Soul-perception," said Stein, tapping the side of his head for emphasis. "Don't know what it means for philosophy and the like, but he has a soul. Same with the other denizens of Aperture. Ask Maka if you don't believe me."

"Huh," said Meme. "Hey, little guy, you got a name?"

"Ni-iiii-III-ght!" warbled the core, in a high-pitched, autotuned voice.

"Night?" repeated Chrona. "Good to meet you. Let me introduce the rest of the team—you do want to join us, right?"

"Wheeeeeee!"

"I'll take that as a 'yes'."

* * *

Tamaki Suoh was in a hurry.

So much of a hurry, in fact, that he didn't notice Death the Kid was also using the staircase.

"Sorry!" called the blond, as he pushed past someone. They lost their balance and toppled all the way down the stairs, with a few nasty-sounding cracks along the way.

His urgent errand forgotten, Tamaki turned his attention to the pile of clothes and bruises fallen at the foot of the stairs, only to find the front of his shirt seized by an irate Death the Kid.

"What the _Hell_ do you think you're doing?" he asked. "If I were human, that might have killed me!"

"Sorry," said Tamaki, becoming mortified and going to hide in his corner.

"Oh no," said Kid, "you do not get to get out of this by sulking. You, me, gym, high-noon. Be there or face the wrath of a god."

"But—"

"Don't have time for this," said Kid. "You're not the only one with a schedule."

And the Shinigami was gone in a swirl of shadows.

* * *

Well, that message wasn't going to deliver itself, so Tamaki was soon running again. He was so worried and distracted by what had just happened that he ploughed straight into Black-Star, who was giving a speech on how great he was to an intimidated crowd of Ouran weapons.

After blasting him against a wall with a soul-wavelength-punch, Black-Star glared at Suoh. "So, you wanna fight? Fine. Gym, two hours. First, I gotta finish my performance."

And Tamaki was ignored.

Suoh did the sane thing and kept on running.

* * *

Well, his message was delivered, finally, and Tamaki now had two people wanting to beat him up. One at noon, and one an hour later.

Perhaps he should make more of an effort to mend fences between himself and the Shibusen crowd? Recent events seemed to indicate that they were decent people.

Spotting Maka Albarn reading outside, Tamaki went over to say hi.

They made small-talk for a few minutes, and then Tamaki got up to leave, inadvertently sweeping her book off the ledge and into the water of the small, decorative fishpond by which she was sitting.

The scythe meister glared at him with fury in her eyes.

"No one destroys Dumas!" she seethed. "I'm going to _hurt_ you for that. Two, gym, no weapons."

Tamaki just stared at her.

Well, there went the rest of his afternoon.

* * *

When he showed up at ten minutes til noon, Tamaki saw that the three of them were already there, even Albarn.

"Kind of early aren't you?" asked Black-Star, raising an eyebrow.

"I'll say," remarked Maka. "How did _you_ know about that, Black-Star?"

"What?"

"That I challenged the guy to a sparring match at 2:00?" clarified Maka.

"Didn't," said Black-Star. "I challenged him at 1:00."

"I got noon," added Kid.

The three of them stared at him.

"I'm sorry?" said Tamaki, looking at the trio of them with a kind of hopeless remorse.

The Shinigami sighed. "I can't do it," he said. "It'd be like decapitating a puppy."

"Aww... shit." agreed Black-Star.

Maka sighed. "Guess we kind of jumped the gun there. Sorry. Fought a werewolf this morning. Nearly died. Kind of put us in a bad mood—"

"If you want to fight someone," called Haruhi, from across the room, "Angela and Kirimi could use some combat lessons."

Black-Star and Maka shared a grin.

"Certainly!" Kid called back, a smile lighting his own features as well.

The three of them walked over to the other side of the gym.

After a few seconds, they stopped and looked back at Tamaki Suoh.

"You coming?" asked Maka.

Tamaki brightened up. He hated it when people didn't like him, so being included was... nice. Plus, even if he didn't have the strongest sense of bloodlust, combat was something he could appreciate.

* * *

Two hours later, they were still going strong: watched in mortified fascination by no less than three dozen members of the Ouran Alliance. Meisters weren't all that common in the OA. Meisters who could fight against Witches and Clowns without even the aid of weapons were bordering on terrifying.

* * *

About a week later, it was the celebration of the fifth anniversary of the Ouran Alliance's formation and three of the guests were not enjoying themselves in the least.

"First time we had a party, Asura was revived," said Maka. "Second time we had a party, Kid got shot and we were lost in the woods for a month. I'm not sure I wanna know what happens this time..."

"Just keep breathing," advised Kid. "It'll be over soon enough."

Black-Star had forgone speech in favor of constant vigilance, scanning the crowd for the slightest hint of threat.

And hour later, and they hadn't lightened up in the least, in spite of the best efforts of their partners and the Ouran Witches.

Suddenly, one of the Hitachin twins called out to them, and the three of them turned to show they were listening.

Before they could so much as blink, Kid, Maka, and Black-Star found themselves slammed against the wall—or rather into an alcove on the wall that had been filled with glue—and then a similar one on the ceiling filled with mylar confetti.

Then, the three Shibusen meisters plopped down to the floor with a trio of painful-sounding 'splat!'s.

They, slowly, sat up and stared with shell-shocked eyes at the Hitachin brothers, who were laughing fit to split their sides wide open at the sight of two humans and a death-god who'd been, effectively, Twilight-tar-and-feathered.

Kyoya didn't interrupt them. He was going to go ahead and _let_ those two dig this hole as deep as they possibly could... and then he was going to dump a spit-ton of rocks in after them and entomb the Clowns for once and forever. Attacking allies, this really was the last—

"So," Hikaru said to their three victims. "Was that enough catastrophe for you?"

The Shinigami raised an eyebrow. That, honestly, wasn't what he'd expected to hear. He exchanged a glance first with the slowly grinning scythe meister to his left and the incredulous Assassin to his right.

Then, the three of them started laughing as though the Clown's statement was the funniest thing they'd heard in years. When they were done, the three stood and grinned. "Thanks," said the Shinigami.

The others could only stare in incredulity, as the three meisters, after changing into new clothes, came back and enjoyed the party without so much as a complaint. They seemed, almost, to be in better spirits than they'd been before the prank.

And that, Kyoya realized, was what it had been: a prank. Not an attack, not a threat _disguised_ as a prank, but an honest-to-goodness we-are-the-Hitachin-twins-and-we-treat-all-our-fri ends-like-toys_ prank_.

It meant that the two single most stubborn members of his alliance were starting to warm up to the Death Scythe Shinigami and their allies.

On the one hand, this was very good.

On the other, he'd probably soon come to miss the days when things were quiet.

* * *

AN: It's finals week next week! Stress, stress, and more stress! Writing is fun, and I don't wanna study... but now I'm out of excuses. Darn.


	33. Chapter 33

AN: Think I've changed things enough that I can get away with no new spoiler tags for this chapter. I don't think you have to put up spoiler tags for a mythos anyway...

* * *

When the woods around him had gone dark and gray, Kyon's first hope was that it had been Nagato's doing.

A flash of blue out of the corner of his eye seemed to discourage that theory.

A harsh giggle behind him killed it completely.

"Ms. Asakura," Kyon said, causing a new bout of giggles from his unseen assailant. "I suppose there's no convincing you that I'm not trying to bring about the apocalypse?" he asked.

"Sorry, Kyon," said the blue-haired, ax-crazy Shingami, who looked to be no older than a teenage girl. "It's nothing personal, but Kishin always snap eventually. Better to take you down now, when your integrity's still intact, and your own morals will make it harder for you to fight back."

"Ngh," said Kyon, dodging out of the way of her knife.

"On some level, you must agree with me," she said, giving him a bright smile. "Why else would you be hiding from society?" With a rearrangement of the universe, she was suddenly behind him. Kyon ducked and rolled to the side. "In fact," she went on, "I'd even go so far as to say that, deep down, you _want _ me to kill you. Any decent person would... so why don't you just stand still? It'll be quick, I promise!"

Argh. Where was Nagato when he needed her?

"Hello," said his own personal guardian angel, who had just faded into existence beside him in an ethereal cascade of pixels.

Looks like he'd spoken too soon. You know, maybe this whole 'Kishin wish-fulfillment' deal wasn't completely bad, after all...

"Nagato," he said, greeting her with a tight smile. "Any advice on how to deal with her?" he asked, nodding at Ryoko Asakura.

"Thinking," she informed him. After a moment she spoke again: "Self-defense is a necessary skill. Do you possess significant control over your own madness wavelength to use it offensively?"

"Doubt it."

"Can you find the resolve to wish she would go away and stop bothering you?"

"What good would that—" he began.

Then, Kyon slapped himself on the forehead. "Of course. Idiotic not to realize it earlier..."

Kyon then did something he wasn't accustomed to. While Nagato fought with Asakura, he quit suppressing his inner-child, which wanted nothing so much as for this threat to go away and leave him alone. Not for anything bad to happen to her, mind you, just for her to leave and not come back to hurt him or his sister.

When he'd still believed himself human, he would have just about killed himself for indulging in such escapist fantasy when there was a clear an immediate danger standing in front of him, but that was before the world had changed beneath him...

"Wait a second..." Ryoko was suddenly saying. "Why am I even here?" She glared at Nagato suspiciously. "Yuki, you altered the data to bring me here, didn't you?! Quit it! Go make some real friends, if you're so lonely. I have other things to do..."

With that, Asakura was gone.

"It may just be me," said Kyon, after a moment. "But that seemed stupidly easy. What kind of a solution is 'wishing that the problem would go away'?"

"A much better solution than 'wishing that the problem didn't exist'," offered Nagato.

Kyon had to sit down for a minute, as the ethical ramifications of that sentence ran him over like a freight train. Insane as Asakura was, Kyon could kind of get why she and most of the other Data Integration Thought Entities wanted him dead...

"Well, that was fun," said Kyon, after he felt able to speak again. "Who else is ready never to speak of this again?"

"Speak of what?" returned Nagato.

* * *

When they arrived at the brigade meeting, Haruhi appeared to be trying her hand at dance choreography.

"Okay. Next you spin around, spread your arms like an eagle about to land, and then take a bow!" the brigade leader was saying.

"Ah, Kyon, Ms. Nagato," said Koizumi, greeting them with a bright smile. "Good of you to join us."

If he didn't have it on good authority that Itsuki Koizumi was a Clown, Kyon would have pegged him for another of those incessantly smiling Shinigami.

"Kyon!" said Haruhi, turning stern eyes on him. "You're late! Penalty!"

"Hello to you too, Haruhi," he said. "What are we doing?" he asked. He would have made some snarky comment like, "Please, tell me we're not doing Riverdance..." or "What musical will we be performing today, oh great leader?", but he'd long-since learned to keep his mouth shut, as those kinds of remarks tended to encourage Haruhi more than anything else.

"This," said Haruhi. "Is the Haruhi Suzumiya Homesickness Dance 5.0. Guaranteed to instill feelings of nostalgia and longing for the familiar in those who perform it!"

"You're still on about that, huh?" he asked. Haruhi was still on her crusade to get him to go back home. She knew he was a Kishin, and apparently didn't care. It was enough that he was a 'fellow brigade member' or something along those lines. No one had yet gotten around to informing her that she, herself, was anything other than human, and Kyon certainly wasn't going to be the one to do it.

Haruhi had even less self-control than he did, and Kyon was sure that the instant she heard the words, "and don't wish for other people to die" two dozen random classmates and celebrities would drop dead before she could so much as apologize.

Right. Time to be a responsible abomination and humor Suzumiya. "I don't suppose I can watch?" he asked.

"No," said Haruhi. "Get over here!"

* * *

Two Hours Later:

Haruhi stood in the center, of course, with Asahina-san and Nagato flanking her on either side. Kyon stood to Nagato's right; Koizumi stood to Asahina-san's left.

"Okay," said Haruhi. "Go!"

_I hold the for creator of this song nothing but apathy, _Kyon said to himself. _He or she was probably just doing their job. They went home at the end of the day to their loving family knowing that, while they may have unleashed a horror on the world, at least their children would have food in their mouths. No, any and all malice on my part should be directed at Haruhi. She, for one, is_ _strong enough to take it..._

"Kyon, you're lagging," Haruhi chided him.

Kyon rolled his eyes and kept dancing with the rest of them. If Nagato could bring herself to do it, then so could he.

"Yay!" cheered his sister once they'd finished. She was clapping her hands, thinking it hilarious that there was someone else out there who had her brother as tightly wrapped around her fingers as she did.

_Well,_ Kyon thought, _At least _someone's_ enjoying themselves_.

He didn't have a great deal of time to dwell on big-brotherly feelings, however, as, at that moment, something that sounded like the child of mic-feedback and radio-static wailed out across the clearing.

"Ahhh!" squeaked Mikuru Asahina, crouching on the ground with her hands over her head. "Wh-what was that?"

"Let's go investigate!" said Haruhi.

Koizumi followed her without a second thought.

Kyon and Yuki exchanged a glance. Kyon caught his sister's arm before she could follow them. "Let's wait here for now, okay kid?" he said. "Let the hot-heads get mauled by the grizzly bear first. We'll take it out when it's distracted."

His sister giggled.

Nagato vanished into the woods for no more than a minute before returning. "Whatever it was, it is not there anymore," she said. "Based on previous data, it will likely be between two and four hours before Suzumiya reaches this conclusion."

"Thanks, Nagato," said Kyon. "Want to go raid Haruhi's fridge?" he asked the two of them. "We can blame it on the mysterious whatever-it-was."

"Okay, bro," said his younger sibling.

"Affirmative," agreed Nagato.

Kyon smiled. Things were finally starting to feel normal again. Maybe it really was time to go home.

He'd have to wait a few weeks, of course, just to make sure Haruhi didn't think her stupid song and dance had had anything to do with it.

* * *

That night, Kyon's sister had insomnia.

If you'd asked her why she thought it was a good idea to walk out into the woods, without telling anyone where she was going, she wouldn't have been able to give a convincing answer.

As it turned out, she ran into no one on her way out, and didn't have to explain herself.

She didn't have an obvious destination, as she meandered around the trees, becoming hopelessly disoriented in her search for... actually, what was she searching for?

Something white caught her eyes. Who would leave a note on a tree like that?

She went over to pick it up.

When she did, the world dropped away, and she found herself... in her old bedroom, back home.

Wait, what?

* * *

The next morning, there was a great flurry of activity as Haruhi tried to play detective. Kyon wasn't in the mood.

"I want to find my sister, I want to find my sister, I want to find my sister..." he repeated to himself.

"I don't doubt your sincerity," said Nagato, "But it is possible that that particular method will not be effective."

"Why not?" asked Kyon, surprised more than anything else.

"If it didn't work the first time," answered Nagato, "then that suggests outside interference. That is, a being of power equal to or greater than your own may be conspiring to block your abilities."

"Another Kishin?" he asked, shooting a glance at Haruhi, the first person he'd bet on to mess everything up.

"It could also be one of the more advanced Thought Entities," said Nagato, "or a being from another dimension altogether," she said.

"Could it have been that Witch we met awhile ago?" Kyon wanted to know.

"Unlikely," said Nagato. "Witch or not, that girl was a child. Whatever did this was not." She paused a moment, considering their options. "If I go investigate a few of the other universes," she said, "can you hold things down here?"

"Yes," said Kyon. "Good luck, Nagato."

"And to you," replied the Shinigami.

* * *

Yuki Nagato had barely been gone three hours before she returned.

"Kyon," she greeted him.

"Find anything?" he asked. Kyon had spent the time combing through the nearby woods, and was stopping by the house for a quick glass of water before heading out again.

"Nothing conclusive," she said. "At this point, it is unlikely that she's in another dimension, but that is all I know."

"Miss Nagato?" asked a voice. "You still here?"

"Who are they?" asked Kyon, seeing a few unfamiliar faces outside through the doorway.

"Volunteers to help with the search," replied the Shinigami.

Kyon stuck his head out the door and saw that there were nearly a score of them.

The first to catch his eye was a guy with blue spiky hair, who he thought looked familiar. A tall girl with black hair and a kind face walked beside him.

Also part of the guy's group was a short guy with white-streaked black hair who stood between two blonde sisters, as well as a nondescript blonde and a white-haired guy with an easygoing manner and jagged teeth. There also appeared to be two robots with them. Huh, go figure.

There was another, considerably larger group of people, who seemed to have a 'red' motif going on: three of whom were red-skinned and only about half the height of a normal human, and who also had horns on their heads; with them was a pair of red-haired twins, as well as a tough-looking guy whose hair was nearly fire-engine red. A serious girl with scarlet hair also stood among them. The only three who didn't fit were a black-haired guy with glasses who seemed to be in charge, a brunette who was standing between the twins, as well as a blonde guy who looked much too happy for Kyon's taste.

"Not that we couldn't use the help," he said. "But what exactly are they expecting in return for this?"

"All in the group are following the lead of my contact, Kyoya Ohtori," Nagato informed him. "I believe he's doing this as a political gesture of goodwill. It would not be the first time I've seen him do something similar."

Kyon stepped outside.

A girl wearing pigtails and the guy wearing a suit gasped and took a step backwards.

"This is Kyon," said Nagato.

The girl and guy exchanged a glance and stepped forward, in line with their companions again.

"We're looking for his sister?" asked the girl. "So, I assume she's... that they'll have a similar wavelength?"

Kyon stared at them for a minute. "You two are Shinigami, aren't you?" he asked, recognizing the horror-stricken expression of those who had seen the soul of a Kishin and were now deciding what the heck to do about it.

"Not me," said the girl. "I just have soul-perception." Now that he thought about it, she looked kind of familiar too. Had he seen her before?

"His sister is adopted," supplied Nagato. "Her soul is that of a normal child, and this is what she looks like," she said, handing the group a picture to pass around.

"Any other family to speak of?" asked a guy with glasses, Kyoya Ohtori, according to the introduction he'd given.

"I mean, just our parents..." Kyon said. "Crap, I should call them." He went back into the house.

When he came back out, several minutes later, only Ohtori and the two robots were still there.

"No answer," Kyon said. "I left a few messages, but..."

"We can send someone to check your address," Ohtori offered.

"Okay. Hang on..." Kyon wrote it down on a piece of paper.

"P-body," Ohtori said, handing the piece of paper to the taller of the two robots, who was white with orange highlights.

There was some unintelligible chattering between the two robots, before the orange robot shot off a portal and disappeared through it.

"Where's everyone else?" asked Kyon.

"Scouring the woods," replied Ohtori. "Maka Albarn thought she sensed something off. Considering she once sensed a Kishin that was hiding on the moon, I'm inclined to trust her instincts."

At that moment, the blue robot ran off towards the woods and gibbered some sort of message back at them.

"It seems one of the groups has found something," Ohtori translated.

* * *

After perhaps two minutes of walking, before the three of them could reach its the reported location of the anomaly, they came across a group of seven, three of whom were ripping strips off their own clothes to make blindfolds. It was the smaller of the two groups from before, Kyon realized.

"It's not a basilisk, is it?" asked Ohtori, upon seeing their preparations.

"No," said Maka Albarn. "It's another Kishin." She turned to Kyon. "You don't know a guy in a suit with no face and tentacles for arms, do you?"

"No," answered Kyon, wondering how she could be so matter-of-fact about something like that.

"Don't know if he has anything to do with this," she continued, "but we can't look at the guy without foaming at the mouth, so the obvious solution is to quit relying on our eyes."

"Soul perception and soul perception," said Ohtori, nodding at the Shinigami and the girl. "What about the Assassin?"

"Been sparring blind for years," he said with a dismissive tone. "Besides," here he grinned, "Tsubaki can still see. I'll be fine."

"If you drag the other fighters down, you'll be asked to leave," warned Ohtori.

"If we drag the other fighters down, we deserve a lot worse than 'being asked to leave'," replied Kid, finishing the knot on his blindfold. "There, let's go!"

Four flashes of light and the three blindfolded kids had two pistols, a sword, and a scythe between them. They then ran off.

"A scythe," mused Kyon, as they disappeared from sight. "Soul perception _and_ a scythe. Part of me suspects she's lying about being a Shinigami... what is it?" asked Kyon, seeing the slightly disconcerted expression on Ohtori's face.

"Nothing," said Kyoya. "Cuture shock. Nothing more."

"Fighting blind isn't normal where you come from, then?" asked Kyon, offhandedly.

"That's not normal anywhere," Ohtori assured him. "But they _are_ good to have around in a fight."

* * *

By the time they caught up to Atlas, however, there was nothing there. They did find most of the search party, in an altogether ordinary stretch of woods, arranged in a circular formation around nothing that was apparently obvious.

"Crap!" complained a blindfolded Black-Star. "How does this guy keep doing that? I mean, all we wanna do is ask him some questions..."

"This way," said Yuki Nagato, sensing the wavelength of their quarry, almost drifting off into the woods as she excluded from her focus anything but trees and wavelength.

The group of them then began to weave their way through the woods, with the three blinded meisters and Ritsu Kasanoda in the lead, all of whom were following the lead of Maka Albarn and Death the Kid, who had caught the scent of their quarry, after Nagato had pointed it out.

"Has anyone seen Tamaki?" asked Kyoya.

"He, Haruhi, and Slater decided to pull back," Kaoru told him.

Those in the Ouran Alliance were better in touch than most with that their limitations were, and knew better than to keep fighting when they might be a liability.

"What do we have?" asked Ohtori.

"Kishin," replied the Clown. "Doesn't seem aggressive. We're just trying to get some answers out of the guy about what he's doing here, since his proximity to the crime is suspicious... but, honestly, I'm not sure this guy even understands the concept of language anymore." Kaoru shrugged, and ran to catch up with Hikaru.

When they managed to catch up to the main group again, they saw that Ritsu Kasanoda, in basilisk form, appeared to be having a staring contest with a faceless grey-skinned humanoid in a suit. On either side of the Witch stood Hani and Mori. In his hand, Kasanoda held an unfolded straight razor.

Yuki Nagato sat, cross legged, off to the side, typing away on her laptop.

Kid, Black-Star and Maka were arranged in a triangle-formation around the Kishin, their weapons held at the ready. They moved to one side so that the Hitachins and the two remaining demons could join their ranks.

"The Kishin doesn't appear responsive to language of any sort," Nagato told them. "At least, he hasn't responded to any of the previous thirty-two languages I've tried addressing him in—"

Here, she paused, and shot a question at the Kishin spoken in Swahili. Nothing.

"—thirty-three languages then," she continued. "He appears to be unable to teleport so long as at least one person maintains undivided attention upon his form. Hence, most of the burden is on Ritsu Kasanoda, the only one of us to have a third eyelid and thus possess the ability to maintain eye contact while blinking: though the more people we have the better—"

Nagato fired off a question in Korean, to which the Kishin remained unresponsive.

"Where this individual might have come from..." she shook her head, "I would require more data to speculate."

At that moment, Nagato was interrupted by a cry of "Monster!" which came from the woods.

Kyon recognized that voice.

Before anyone could do anything, Kasanoda had been tackled by a bloodthirsty Haruhi Suzumiya. When the dust cleared, Haruhi had Kasanoda pinned to the ground and sat atop his chest. Kasanoda, for his part, held his razor against his assailant's throat.

"Uh, guys?" Kasanoda said to his allies. "I don't think I can paralyze this one."

The straight razor was then joined by it's friends: scythe, enchanted sword, and twin pistols in their gathering around Haruhi Suzumiya's head.

"Ma'am," said Maka Albarn. "I'm going to have to ask you to step away from the Witch now."

"Okay, jeez," said Haruhi, in a rather condescending tone. "I suppose we can do things the easy way..."

She pulled out a photo of Kyon's sister. "Ever seen this little girl before?" she asked.

Kyon facepalmed. "Haruhi, these people are helping us with the search... which you'd know, if you bothered to answer your phone, read any of the three text messages I sent you, or listen to your voicemail."

"The law doesn't stop for such banalities when there's a crime to be solved!"

"Yes, I think we can see that."

While Kyon and Haruhi bantered back and forth, the Ouran/Shibusen group was just realizing that they'd forgotten about something.

"Damn," said Kid. "In all the confusion, the Kishin teleported again, didn't he? I'd say... southeast, this time. Wouldn't you agree, Maka?"

The scythe meister nodded.

"Okay, seriously," said Black-Star. "Can you guys really not tell that that's the Slenderman?"

"Slender-what?" asked Maka.

"Slenderman," repeated Black-Star. "You know? Tall guy in a suit, no face, eats kids..."

"You mean that internet hoax?" asked Maka.

"Didn't look like a hoax," returned Black-Star.

Kyoya Ohtori was interested. "Are you saying that this Kishin is a figure of note in the Death Scythe Dimension?"

Maka frowned. "Well, he bears resemblance to an urban legend... but no one's convincingly seen him..."

"Interesting."

"Hang on," said Kyon, breaking off from his fight with Haruhi as horrified realization dawned over him. "Did you just say _eats kids_?"

Before they could answer, Ohtori's cell phone began ringing.

He answered it, and, after no more than ten seconds of conversation, he handed the phone to a bewildered Kyon.

"Sis?" Kyon said, his eyes growing wide with surprise, as he heard the voice on the other end of the call. "Where have you been?!"

…

"Huh," said Kyon.

….

"No, I'm not mad: just worried," assured Kyon.

…

"Okay, see you in a bit," Kyon finished.

…

He hung up the phone and gave it back to Ohtori.

"My sister's fine," he told them. "She's home and she has no idea how she got there. Last thing she remembers was getting lost in the woods last night. I'm going to go make sure she's alright."

As he was saying this, a blue portal appeared in midair. P-Body and Kyon's sister were visible through it. P-body immediately stepped through to rejoin Atlas with the rest of them in the woods.

"Hey, bro," said the girl.

Kyon stepped through the portal, relieved beyond imagining, and was gone.

Well, then.

* * *

After some time, Kyoya turned to Maka and Kid. "The soul-protect I have on is still in place, yes?"

"I don't know. I mean, your soul looks normal..." began Kid. Then he facepalmed. "Of course, Soul Protect. Yes, your soul looks as 'human' as anyone else's."

Maka nodded.

"Right," Kyoya said. "I believe we may have misjudged this Kishin. I suggest a test of character."

"What do you propose?" asked Hikaru.

"We go about our business for a minute. Then, I step off this cliff and see what happens."

"What are you expecting to happen?" asked Kid.

"What if he's already made a break for it?" asked Black-Star.

"Then we've lost nothing but a little time and effort," said Kyoya.

Kyoya then stepped off the cliff.

At some point where they couldn't quite pinpoint (and it was because they couldn't pinpoint it that it happened at that moment) Kyoya reappeared on the ledge where he'd stepped from.

The Slenderman was now standing, not too far away, regarding the Ohtori brother with some degree of curiosity.

It was at that moment that Kyoya released his soul-protect, exposing the wavelength of a death-god.

Nagato was typing rapidly on her laptop. "You're a Shinigami?" she asked.

"Indeed," he said. "Though it's privileged information, and I ask your discretion."

"You have it," she said.

Kyoya turned to the others of the group to continue with his monologue.

"Recent events suggest he might have had another motive for seeking conflict with the Brigade. After all, what would you do if you found a human child in the care of two Kishins, two Clowns, and a Shinigami?"

"You think he might have been trying to help the girl?" asked Tremont (one of the demons).

"Perhaps," agreed Ohtori.

"Our lore says he eats kids," Black-Star pointed out.

"Evidence suggests otherwise," said Ohtori.

Kyoya then gave a nod of his head to the monstrosity.

The Kishin returned it, though it now seemed more interested in Liz, Patty, Maka, Soul, Black-Star, and Tsubaki: the sole humans of the team.

Maka, though still blindfolded, stepped forward. "I am Maka Albarn," she tried, just for the heck of it. "Who are you?"

No response.

She took out a piece of paper and wrote the words, 'who are you?' on it, on the off chance that he was deaf but not blind.

A note fluttered to the ground at her feet. She picked it up. It showed a rather crude drawing of a stick man amongst stick-trees.

Since she couldn't see, she wasn't really sure what to make of it.

Atlas and P-body, however, became very excited. Maka handed off the pencil and paper to them.

They drew rough drawings of themselves and wrote the words, "Atlas" and "P-body" underneath them. After folding the sheet into a paper airplane, they tossed it in his direction. It was caught in a tentacle.

The response was a drawing of a stick-man in a suit with no face. Under it was written a single word: Slender.

The next moment, the Kishin was gone.

This time, they did not offer pursuit.

* * *

Well, it's all well and good to say that the best victories are the ones won without violence, but that strategy does tend to leave the warriors without much to do for amusement.

An hour after everyone else had gone home, the SOS Brigade (minus Kyon and his sister) faced off against Team Albarn in a game of Capture the Flag. All participants played in human form, and all use of supernatural abilities was kept to a minimum.

Haruhi's team won, of course—though it was hard to tell whether this was due to the fact that she wanted her own team to win, and thus influenced the outcome of the game, or due to the fact that Maka, Black-Star, and Kid hadn't noticed that they were still wearing blindfolds.

* * *

Meanwhile, miles and miles away, Kyon turned off the TV and started to think about eating dinner. His parents had accepted his return with the same equanimity that had accompanied his abrupt departure. Thank you, insanity-god-powers.

And, he supposed that, possibly, he should also be thanking tentacle-suit-man. He'd been briefed on the events that had transpired after he'd left the clearing by Nagato and, sure, the guy hadn't been so great with his communication skills... but his appearance (and frequent disappearances) were the first tangible proof he'd seen that not all Kishin became monsters. That meant that he _had_ been overreacting and somewhat emo all these months, and that it was time to get back to real life. Ax-crazy Shinigami or no ax-crazy Shinigami, he'd get by. It was a nice feeling.

* * *

Five minutes later, he wasn't feeling so contented.

Garage doors, Kyon was fairly certain, were supposed to be _opened_ before you attempted to park your car inside the garage. Apparently, the last person to drive the family vehicle hadn't been aware of that fact, as the door itself was nearly caved-in and falling off its rails onto the dented and scratched Honda that constituted Kyon's sole motorized mode of transportation.

"Shamisen!" roared Kyon. "What the hell did you do to the car?!"

* * *

AN: This chapter contained numerous references to the Slenderman Mythos, particularly the video game 'Slender', if anyone's curious.


	34. Chapter 34

AN: Spoilers for the video game "God of War" and the movie "The One".

* * *

Among the seven members of Team Albarn (or as they'd lately been known, "Team Death Scythe") there were six people who did not aspire to godhood. Whether this was because they'd accepted their humanity or because they already _were_ gods was, of course, a trivial distinction, and not relevant for the following discussion.

Now, among these six members of Team Albarn/Death Scythe, there was an unspoken agreement that Black-Star must be kept away from as many imitable sources of megalomania as possible. Thus, if Soul were to play "God of War" (kill god to become a god) or Patty to watch "Death Note," (stealing Ohtori's notebook would probably not do anyone any good) they'd make every effort to do it when the easily-influenced Assassin wasn't around.

As it turned out, no one had really thought that there would be an issue with science fiction. And, under normal circumstances, there wouldn't be. Because, under normal circumstances, it wouldn't even be _possible_ to kill all the alternate versions of oneself from parallel universes and thus achieve godhood through singularity.

"That's an awesome idea!" said Black-Star, after the movie had ended. "I'm gonna do it too!"

Liz and Patty shook their heads.

Soul, Maka, and Kid looked equally torn between being horrified and being impressed.

Tsubaki just sighed. This one was going to take some serious effort to mitigate.

* * *

By early afternoon, she'd managed to talk him down to just a sparring match with his alternate selves, by claiming that her counterparts would be heartbroken if his counterparts died.

Why that had worked when 'murder is wrong' had fallen on deaf ears, she still wasn't sure.

And now, due to Kid's insistence that they run the idea by Lord Death, they were all in the Death Room. Hopefully, Black-Star would actually _listen_ this time when it was Shibusen's leader telling him what a bad idea this whole thing would turn out to—

"Sure, Black-Star!" said Lord Death, in a cheerful voice. "Sounds like it'll be fun. Just make sure to take your team along with you, in case you run into trouble!"

Kid glared daggers at his father, for not only dumping all the responsibility on them, but for not even bothering to be subtle about it.

At any rate, their next stop was the Ouran Dimension.

* * *

Taking the next logical step after Kid's idea had failed to work, Maka had insisted on consulting with the natives before they did anything drastic. Thus, they were now in Kyoya Ohtori's office.

"Your identities in this universe?" asked Ohtori, his expression unreadable.

"Yeah," said Black-Star. "Wanted to go challenge the other me to a fight. See who's stronger."

Ohtori opened the drawers to his filing cabinet, digging around for the seven files he was interested in. "Ah, here we are," he said, tossing the folders at them. "Go nuts," he told them. "Those are copies, so feel free to keep them. Just realize that anything you do outside our fortress will undoubtedly reach the ears of the Death Emperor, so having Coven Nekozawa use Soul Protect on you would be to your advantage. It will remain in place so long as you do not use any resonance techniques."

"Wouldn't it be wiser not to go in the first place?" asked Maka hopefully.

"I see no real problem with it," said Ohtori. "It's completely natural, to want to see how your life could have turned out, had things been different. See if you can get your alternate selves to join the Alliance. We can always use more fighters."

"Figures," muttered Maka.

The three meisters then took a moment to read through their dossiers.

"I'm _human_ in this dimension?" asked Kid, incredulous. After a pause, he frowned in distaste. "What kind of parent names their child 'Damien'?"

"Don't blame your dad, Kid. Probably it's the responsibility of some deity with a sense of humor," Maka told him. After going over her own file, she sighed. "Looks like my mom got custody of me instead of my dad, in this world."

"Holy shit," said Black-Star, glancing at his folder. "Ouran-me was raised by my _family_..."

Tsubaki put a hand on Black-Star's shoulder. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves," she said, with a forced smile, seeing that Maka and Kid were too distracted to be of much help at the moment. "We have no idea whether the Coven will even have time to help us right now..."

* * *

As it turned out the Ouran Witches were all too willing to help them, and they were starting to run out of ideas.

"First we had to go talk to Lord Death, then Ohtori, then the Witches, then _GLaDOS_, and now we get dragged down by these lunatics?" asked Black-Star in exasperation, glancing at the Hitachins, who Liz and Patty had just flagged down. "When are we actually gonna get to _fight _anyone?" The Assassin scratched in irritation at the neck of his borrowed jumpsuit, emblazoned with the Aperture Science logo, which GLaDOS had provided, when they'd asked about what would make an effective disguise.

If anyone asked, they were going to say that they were escaped prisoners, and rely on audacity to see them through any problems which couldn't be solved using violence. Though, to be honest, they didn't expect to encounter many of those.

As was said before, they'd picked up the Hitachin twins while fishing for information. As it turned out the two of them had never heard of their own universe possessing a Death Weapon Meister Academy. In the interest of remaining incognito, the two of them were wearing what looked like a cross between school uniforms and tuxedos. Admittedly, it was a choice which was marginally more casual than the designer clothes they normally favored.

Predictably, the Ouran DWMA was also in Death City, Nevada, though it looked considerably less wealthy and considerably more badass than their own school. There was no hint of the extravagance of the Scythe-verse DWMA, and one seemed a great deal more likely to come across flaming skulls than artistic fountains in this particular establishment.

Surprisingly, Hikaru and Kaoru were determined to give them some last-minute advice:

"Okay," they said, as the nine of them began the long climb up the ridiculously long staircase that was the only practical way into or out of Shibusen. "Now, we're agents of chaos. So, if anyone asks, you didn't hear it from us... but you commoners seem to be a whole lot more lax than we are about the weapon-wielder relationship. We gather that you're going in to kick ass and take names... but, for the love of insanity, try to at least be civil about it."

"We know, we know, we're not supposed to use the word 'meister'..." began Kid.

"Not just that," said Hikaru. "You guys have your weapons transform—"

"—in front of everybody," finished Kaoru.

"And...?" asked Maka, exchanging a surprised glance with Soul.

"It's not some horrible form of oppression, if that's what you're getting at," offered Tsubaki.

"There is a point when 'political correctness' becomes insanity," remarked Soul, shaking his head, "And I think these people may have found it."

"Yeah... here's the thing," said Kaoru. "The act of transformation—for any living weapon—is considered a sacred bond between weapon and wielder. It is the weapon's choice who they will transform in front of, in any situation short of open warfare. And to transform in front of an entire student body, during times of peace... well, at best it would be viewed in the same light as streaking. Very low class."

"But we don't care," pointed out Patty.

"Who are you going to fight again?" asked Hikaru.

"Oh," said Maka. "Such an act would humiliate the Ouran versions of Soul, Tsubaki, Liz, and Patty. That's what you're getting at, right?"

"Yeah."

"So what's the big deal?" asked Liz. "Any idiot should be able to see that we're completely different people..."

"Or," said Black-Star. "I can just take Ouran-me on without using a weapon."

"You know what would be better?" said Maka. "Let's trick them into thinking we're from their nega-verse."

"Whata-verse?"

"A universe where all meisters are weapons and weapons are meisters."

"How would that work?" asked Liz. "Me and Patty both use Kid's weapon form?"

"Okay, new plan," said Kid, seeing the flaws in that idea. "Everyone sizes up their counterpart and then, should we decided that violence is necessary, each of us fights their alternate self one-on-one."

"Works for me," said Black-Star. He stopped and glanced down at the ground over the handrailing of the stairs. "Think we're far enough from the ground yet?"

"Looks good to me," said Soul.

Tsubaki, the default portal-master of their group, nodded in agreement, leaned over the side of the stairs, and shot a larger than normal green portal at the flat surface of the side of the staircase. She then swung through it into one of the storage rooms of Aperture Science.

She handed a panel back through, up to Black-Star, who then helped her clamber back up to the stairs with the rest of them. A press of a button got rid of the green portal, without disturbing its red counterpart in Aperture Laboratories. Man, she loved finally being a Death Scythe. She could do some truly insane things with portals now...

A medium-sized black portal which she placed on the ground far below them was paired with a white portal on the piece of paneling they'd brought through, which Soul was put in charge of holding steady, at the nearest he could manage to what she thought the optimum angle would be.

Her preparations completed, the Shadow Weapon jumped over the side of the stairs and plummetted to the ground, passing through the black portal in the process. Tsubaki flew through the white one, and landed within twenty steps of the stairs' end. 'Speedy thing goes in, speedy thing comes out,' indeed.

After bounding up the few remaining steps, Tsubaki moved the black portal to the flat ground before her, and then helped the others clamber through the shortcut she'd just created.

Then, because she was meticulous about these kinds of things, Tsubaki went back through the black portal and picked up the panel to which the white portal was attached, and took it back to Aperture. No point in leaving perfectly good wall-panels lying around, even if there was no real danger in running out of moon dust. Besides, it was just as easy to portal to the top of the stairs from GLaDOS' facility as it would have been to do so from the middle of the stairs.

When she again stood with her team (and the Hitachins), Tsubaki got rid of the black and white portal pair, leaving no indication as to how they'd gotten there, other than the obvious route of the stairs.

Fully appreciating the fact that she could see for miles, Tsubaki shot off a white portal, an orange portal, a yellow portal, and a red portal at the distant horizon in four different directions, creating a fan-formation, and leaving four unfinished portal-pairs that she could complete if they needed an escape route later.

She was very, very glad that other Assassins didn't have access to portals. She'd never be able to let her guard down, otherwise...

"Well, no one's here," Liz was saying.

"Maybe they're in class?" guessed Patty.

"I'm gonna go look around," said Soul, after a minute of deliberation. "Anyone wanna come with?"

"Okay," said Tsubaki, not wanting to be stuck on Black-Star-babysitting duty.

"Let's go," said Liz and Patty.

The duo of Maka and Kid were then left alone with a hyperactive Assassin, who was climbing up the walls to stand on one of the spires, presumably to recreate the speech that he'd given on his first-ever day of school.

* * *

The Ouran universe versions of Soul-Eater Evans, Patty Thompson, Liz Thompson, and Tsubaki Nakatsukasa usually went about in a group together, when they weren't with their techs. It was safer that way, and afforded them some small measure of protection against the students of Shibusen. In particular, the third music room was a common refuge. Though its solitude was a disadvantage as much as an advantage, since it was far enough away from the main route that authority figures, who were the only ones who seemed to care about the prevention of bullying, seldom came within shouting distance.

And so, when a knock sounded against the locked door, the four weapons' first instinct was to pretend that the room was unoccupied. They didn't make a sound, or otherwise give any indication that they were there. In fact, they all stopped their various activities and and gathered by the door to hear what they could hear. It sounded like... actually, it sounded just like the four of them. But of course, that was impossible...

"Let's break down the door," they head someone who sounded a lot like Patty saying.

"It's possible that there's no one in there," suggested a voice that could have been Tsubaki's.

"This door doesn't lock from the outside," pointed out a guy who might have been Soul. And just how could he have known that? So far as they knew, the four of them were the only ones to use this room.

"... kick the door down and go, "Heeeeee're's Patty!" said 'Patty'.

"Oh, _that'd_ make a good first impression," said 'Liz'.

"Guys," said 'Soul'. "I'm not gonna destroy school property. Especially when it's not even _our_ school. One more try, and I'm outta here."

At this point, the four Ouran weapons were unable to contain their curiosity, and wrenched the door open, to see four people who looked exactly like they did, except for the fact that they all wore orange jumpsuits, standing just outside the third music room.

For a moment, the two groups simply stared at each other, unable to speak.

The orange-suited group recovered first.

"Hi," said orange-jumpsuit-Tsubaki. "I'm Tsubaki. This is Liz, Patty, and Soul. You wouldn't happen to believe in parallel dimensions, would you?"

The Ouran-verse Tsubaki, Soul, Liz, and Patty kept staring.

"Hello?" asked orange-Patty, waving her hand back and forth in front of her 'twin's' face.

Ouran-Patty caught her hand and frowned. "Please, don't do that."

Orange-Liz and -Tsubaki broke out into giggles. "Looks like this Patty doesn't appreciate jokes," said orange-Tsubaki.

Ouran-Liz raised an eyebrow. "What are you guys, like, five years old?"

Orange-Soul cracked a jagged grin, causing Ouran-Soul to grimace, revealing normal teeth.

"What's with the uptight atmosphere?" orange-Soul asked. "I mean, sure, I can see the appeal of maintaining a cool persona, but everyone's allowed to laugh every once in a while."

"You claim to be us from another dimension?" asked Ouran-Parry.

"Yep!" said orange-Patty.

"What's with the prison getups?" asked Ouran-Soul. "Did you just break out of the joint or something?"

"Shhh!" said orange-Liz, pressing a finger to her lips. "We're trying to keep that on the down-low until the heat dies down."

…

…

…

"Well, guys," said orange-Soul, upon seeing that the four Ouran-verse weapons weren't about to say anything. "I'm halfway convinced we've wound up in the boring dimension."

"Let's go to DeathBucks," said orange-Tsubaki. "We can claim that we're these guys and start a tab we have no intention of repaying!"

"Say what?" asked Ouran-Liz.

"Of course," said the orange-Shadow Weapon, "that plan would be completely ruined if they came with us, thus making it clear that we are separate and distinct people."

"Too bad they're too boring to want to have fun, though," said orange-Liz.

Orange-Patty nodded solemnly in agreement.

The Ouran-verse weapons exchanged nervous glances amongst themselves. Rather than their own dimension being 'boring', they were beginning to suspect that these four were from a dimension where everyone was _insane_...

Leaving them to their own devices would probably be a monumentally bad idea.

* * *

This suspicion was compounded when they had to pass through the main courtyard to leave Shibusen, and found it occupied, by six meisters fighting a three-on-three free for all, surrounded by a group of incredulous spectators.

It was easy to pick out their own wielders, as they were the ones who weren't wearing orange.

"Hey, guys," said orange-Soul, giving the three jumpsuit meisters a mock-salute. "Way to find non-violent solutions to your problems! Anyway, we're going to DeathBucks and we're taking the cool people with us."

"$#&* you, Soul," said orange-Maka, absently. Followed by, "Can you get me a caramel mocha while you're there?"

"Sure thing," said orange-Soul.

"Have fun," said orange-Kid.

"Hey, Tsubaki! Look how awesome I am!" said orange-Black-Star.

"That's nice, Black-Star," said the orange-Shadow Weapon.

"Okay, let's go," said orange-Soul.

"Are you crazy?" asked Ouran-Soul. "Forget you guys! We're helping our wielders!"

The four of them ran to their techs. Then, the seven Ouran-verse weapons and wielders ran inside.

The Death Scythe dimension team wasn't quite sure what to think of that.

"So... how did Kid and Maka wind up fighting their counterparts?" asked Tsubaki. "They're probably the two most level headed of us, after all..."

"My Ouran counterpart is still very much in the throes of his symmetry obsession," explained Kid, "and humans seldom possess the lines of Sanzu. He threw the first blow."

"What about you, Maka?" asked Soul.

"We had a political disagreement," was all the scythe meister was willing to say on the matter. "But guys? I think we'll have to lose this one."

"Why?" asked Black-Star. "I was totally winning."

"Well, yeah. The thing is, you guys spent the whole time exchanging insults, you probably didn't notice that... well, Ouran-us are assholes."

"How so?" asked Kid, frowning in concern.

"They seem to buy into the whole 'weapons are things' ideology," said Maka. "My counterpart called Ouran-Soul worthless for not being there when she needed him. It wasn't just the words, her voice was downright scary. If we beat up those three while they're using weapons, guess who they're going to take it out on?"

"Aww... crap," said Black-Star. "Why? Just, why? We never had problems like this when we were going after the Kishin. But now, seems like every time we have a chance to look awesome, something happens to mess it all up. First there was Laos, then the Camelot aftermath, and now this..."

"According to Stein-sensei," said Maka. "The most powerful beings in the world strategically lose at least half their fights, because part of the reason they're so powerful _is_ their anonymity."

Black-Star sighed. "Fine," he said, seeing how the Ouran team was just coming back out, the weapons apparently having transformed out of sight like civilized people. "Let's go out there and 'win' this thing."

* * *

Ouran-Maka smirked. "You should have taken the opportunity to have your weapons transform, you morons. Don't think we're going to extend the same courtesy you gave us, through your incompetence..."

Orange-Maka raised an eyebrow. "Okay," she muttered, so that only the rest of her team could hear. "Just so you guys can see what I'm talking about, let's see if we can't shame these people, shall we?"

"Why not?" asked orange-Soul. "Should be interesting."

Ouran-Maka had just finished her speech, so jumpsuit-Maka felt it time to make her move.

"Soul," she said, loud enough for all to hear. "Transform."

Orange-Soul rolled his eyes. "Oh no, not transforming! Whatever will I do, having to reveal my sacred transformation sequence in front of a group of people who I don't know and will never see again! How can you be so cruel, meister?"

"We are so never giving those guys advice ever again," muttered Kaoru, from his place blending in amongst the spectators. Beside him, Hikaru facepalmed.

"I'm waiting," said orange-Maka, clearly impatient, tapping her foot.

"No, please, I'm begging you," said orange-Soul, doing his best to rearrange his features into something resembling horror. "Anything but this!"

While orange-Soul was wailing about on his knees in a fit of theatrics, orange-Maka used the distraction to slice open her palm on orange-Tsubaki's serruptitously offered throwing-star. Then, she mock-slapped her weapon across the face (sound effects provided by a timely hand clap from orange-Patty), leaving a trail of blood running down his cheek.

"Don't make me ask again," she said.

A glance at the Ouran fighters showed nothing more than impatience. Apparently, jumpsuit-Maka's act wasn't anything unusual, by their standards.

"Honestly," said Ouran-Kid, who, they could see, didn't have three white lines in his hair, "if you have to resort to violence to control your weapon, you're really not qualified to be a wielder."

"Ha!" said Ouran-Black-Star. "Tsubaki would never even think of disobeying me!"

Jumpsuit-Soul and -Maka exchanged a grim glance.

Thinking that his meister's point had been sufficiently illustrated by their little show, Soul transformed. "Told you so," Maka said, meeting the horrified gazes of Black-Star and Kid.

The Thompsons and Tsubaki transformed, also having decided they'd seen enough, and the battle proper commenced.

It was rather unfortunate that they'd already decided to lose, as the Ouran versions of the four weapons were nowhere near Death Scythe levels. And, however much Ouran-Black-Star may have shared his counterpart's ambition to surpass God, by the standards of Kid's Shinigami powers, which they all sparred against on a regular basis, Ouran-Black-Star's wavelength wasn't anything to write home about.

After a few minutes, they'd all escaped in the most dramatic fashion possible: through a portal, though not one of the four Tsubaki had placed initially.

The portal took them to the third music room. The one in the Ouran-verse, not the Death-Scythe verse, though. Maka, Black-Star, and Kid had gone on ahead and returned to the Ouran Alliance. The Hitachins had not.

* * *

After perhaps half an hour, the Ouran Soul, Liz, Patty, and Tsubaki showed up, to find six people in their normal hideout.

"You lost on purpose, didn't you?" asked the Ouran-Soul, without preamble.

"Yeah," agreed the orange-jumpsuit-Soul. "It was kind of obvious to anyone who was halfway sane."

"...and we can't help but notice that your technicians _didn't_ notice it," said orange-Liz.

"Why would you do that?" asked Ouran-Tsubaki.

"We figured you guys have enough issues already," said orange-Patty.

"How _did_ you do that?" asked Ouran-Soul. "If I know anything about _our_ wielders, it's that they'd never willingly throw a fight."

Orange-Tsubaki shrugged. "They may look the same, but they're very different people. We really lucked out."

"Your Soul's face, though..." pointed out Ouran-Tsubaki, with a note of concern.

Orange-Soul smirked. He hauled off and slapped orange-Tsubaki in the face, leaving a trail of blood to roll down her cheek.

"Does it look like I was hit?" asked orange-Soul.

"I did the sound," said orange-Patty, looking proud of herself.

"The blood is mine," said orange-Soul, revealing a cut palm.

Orange-Tsubaki took a tissue out of her pocket and wiped off her face. "We were all extras in a production of Camelot," she told them, an amused smile on her face. "We know how to stage a fight."

"Can we defect to your universe?" asked Ouran Patty, looking a bit wistful.

"Sure, if you wanna," said Orange Patty with an easy smile.

"We should warn you, though. Leaving your home universe rarely comes without culture-shock," cautioned Hikaru.

"Have you ever thought about joining the Ouran Alliance instead?" asked Kaoru.

"Who hasn't?" asked Soul. "But it's in Japan. How would we even get there?"

"Very easily," said Tsubaki, shooting a portal at the wall. It opened into Aperture Science. "We can very nearly teleport. That's how we got here in the first place."

The four weapons exchanged a glance, obviously tempted.

"We're expected at dinner in a few minutes," said Ouran-Soul. "We wouldn't be able to go back and get our stuff. I know it's minor, all things considered, but..."

"Just leave it to us," said orange-Tsubaki. "We've _got _this."

Well, the Ouran-verse weapons weren't entirely sure about that, but if this really was an opportunity to join the Ouran Alliance, they were going to seize it by the throat.

… and even if it was some sort of ruse, odds are they would end up somewhere outside of Shibusen, and could find something better to do with their lives. Find new wielders, maybe...

And so, the four of them had followed the mysterious identical twins, who were going to take them to a secret society, through the glowing magic portal on the wall. Really, it was the only logical thing they could do at that point.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the Ouran Alliance recreation wing, the trio of Maka, Black-Star, and Kid were eating dinner together and not in a very good mood.

"Well, I feel terrible now," complained Kid. Then, just in case the Assassin hadn't gotten the message, Kid turned to the blue-haired meister who sat at his right. "Black-Star," he said, "that was a _terrible_ idea."

"Yeah, okay. I'm a big enough man to admit when I'm wrong," Black-Star said. "It honestly didn't occur to me that my alternate selves wouldn't even be _worth_ fighting."

"At least they're working on getting the weapon counterparts out of there," said Maka. "Do you think we should go back to Shibusen for awhile? Give them space?"

Kid shook his head. "We have good reason to stay here. Just have to avoid them as best we can. Try not to make things too awkward..."

They continued in this manner for some time, until a basketball ricocheted off of Black-Star's head.

"All right," said the Assassin, turning around. "Who wants to die?"

Maka picked up the ball, examining it curiously.

Kid ran out into the hall to try and catch a glimpse of the culprits.

"Coven Nekozawa, it looks like." he said. "I think that was a challenge."

"Perfect," said Black-Star with a smirk. "Finally! Opponents worthy of fighting the great Black-Star!"

* * *

When Tsubaki, Soul, Patty, and Liz returned from their excursion to the Ouran dimension's DWMA, they found their meisters engaged in a game of 3-on-3 basketball with Umehito Nekozawa, Ritsu Kasanoda, and Haruhi Fujioka.

Liz thought that they rather seemed to be missing the point of sports as a casual and non-lethal way to pass the time, as the three Witches were in the form of a Panther, a Basilisk, and a Dragon, respectively. The three meisters were partially transformed and cheating with portals, whip, missile-launcher, and pistol like there was no tomorrow. Kid, she could see, had even connected one of the lines of Sanzu.

"Hey, guys!" Patty called out. "We're back!"

"Liz, Patty!" said Kid, turning to face their direction, inadvertently letting down his guard and getting slammed into the wall by a Dragon in the process.

"Time-out!" yelled Black-Star, before going over to greet Tsubaki, followed by his two fellow meisters and the three Witches.

"How did it go?" Maka asked Soul.

"The Ouran DWMA is weird," said Soul.

"How so?" asked Black-Star.

"_Stein_ is married to _Medusa_," said Liz.

"And they're both teachers at Shibusen," added Patty.

"Along with Arachne and Shaula." finished Tsubaki.

"The gorgon sisters?!"

Nekozawa frowned. "You mean that the Mizune sisters aren't the gorgons in your universe?"

"No," said Kid. "For us, the gorgons were the Snake Witch and her two sisters."

"Snake?" said Kasanoda. "But I mean, the gorgons have roots going all the way back to mythology. You know? The monsters with rats for hair that turned you to stone?"

"Snakes for hair in our myths," said Maka.

"You know," said Kid, a surprised expression on his face. "I'm going to go ahead and stop assuming that I know anything at all about your world, no matter how familiar the faces may be."

"Likewise," said Haruhi.

* * *

Now, recent events may have given the impression that to kill alternate versions of oneself is a always a bad idea.

This is true.

But it is equally true that there are exceptions to every rule.

Take the Kishin that the three 'meisketeers' had insisted on facing blindfolded, for example.

The being Black-Star had identified as 'Slenderman' was not known by any particular name in the Dimension of the Weapons' Neo Republic, his plane of origin. And there was good reason for this.

Certainly, the transformation from human to Kishin was a sequence catalyzed by intense pain and insanity... but not everyone ended up like Asura. Kyon of the Kishin-verse stood as the prime example, balancing human reason and madness with careful consideration.

It stands to reason that you cannot judge someone's career merely from the knowledge that they've had a midlife crisis and changed jobs after years in the same line of work. In the same manner, whether you were an insanity god or a pencil pusher turned artiste, what truly mattered, in the end, was not the crisis of identity you'd undergone, but what you made of your life after the initial change.

Though, theoretically, there was nothing to stop any given Kishin from recovering their humanity, it often happened that their human mind would come back but not their heart (like the fearful, but still somewhat rational, Asura) or, that their heart would return, but not their mind, as had happened to the Kishin of the Neo-verse.

Charles Grisham's Kishin transformation from a normal human into a blank-faced man with tentacle arms (which actually _had_ been caused by a midlife crisis, for point of interest), had left him a confused ball of emotions with none of the discipline needed to control his newfound madness wavelength and all of the ability to feel guilt from the consequences of his actions.

Which was why, other than some ill-advised (but very understandable) attempts on his part to contact his family, Charles had taken to wandering the oceans, the deserts, and other wastelands of the world, becoming an expert in the art of antisocialism, for fear of what he might do otherwise. For he'd felt the power level increase that happened every time a human caught sight of him and felt fear... and he wanted nothing to do with whatever megalomania it might bring.

He did this for fifty years with hardly a break in routine.

Then, he found himself summoned to a rather large forest, in the Kishin-verse (though he hadn't known to call it that), against his will.

* * *

His first thought was that there were sentient beings in these woods and that the best course of action would be to get the hell out of there before he drove anyone insane.

His second thought was that the people in the woods included two Kishin, a Shinigami, and a single human child.

Well, there was only one thing to do after that.

Unfortunately, doing the right thing rarely got people to be nice to you.

And then there had been more humans, Witches, Demons, Clowns, and various others in the woods with him. Hmm. Kind of like stepping on an anthill, back when he'd still been human and—no, bad thought. Must not compare people to ants, no matter how apt the metaphor.

Well, they'd seemed to ease up after awhile, and he'd found a few of them were actually nearly immune to his madness wavelength: these were a Clown, one of the Witches, and two who seemed to be mechanical.

Intrigued, he'd tried to follow them back to their dimension of origin, to see if it was a dimension full of Clowns, or some other similar such thing, where he might more easily blend in. Turned out, it was mostly human, just like alll the others. Though, it did seem to be a nexus point for travel to other universes.

After some thought on the matter, he'd decided on investigating the neighboring universe that contained a Shinigami whose soul-wavelength was comparable in volume to a moderately-sized city.

And he would investigate whether the Shinigami was as monster. He _would_. It was just that, on his way to do exactly that, he'd come across a labyrinth. Or maybe a maze, he wasn't too keen on vernacular since he'd lost his mind. But labyrinth-mazes were _awesome_.

Though because he was, at this point, actually inside the Shinigami's wavelength, the Slenderman wasn't exactly all that aware of it anymore. Sure, if he were paying attention, he could make out which way was the gradient of steepest descent by density... but he had found a maze!

Which was probably why he didn't notice it when the Shinigami in question decided to come and find _him_.

* * *

Charles wasn't exactly sure how it'd happened, but suddenly, there had been a powerful death-god standing before him. With a powerful human soul behind him, he could sense, and was that a screw sticking out of his soul wavelength? Weird.

After a few minutes of unproductive standoff, they left again.

Hmm. Seemed like the Shinigami wasn't overly hostile to humans, given that one had been standing right next to him. Hopefully at least. Charles wondered whether this meant they didn't mind him haunting their maze for awhile. He really liked mazes. Had he mentioned that?

After a few minutes, the Shingami and screw-human were back, with three other wavelengths, two human, one death-god. These were familiar. They were three of the ones who had stalked him through the woods after he'd been summoned. The one in the middle was the one who'd seemed to realize that he was deaf, and had tried to use written communication.

Sure enough, they'd tried the paper thing again, and he'd done his best to convey his immense glee at finding such a convoluted maze.

A few minutes more, and only the three younger wavelengths were talking to him. Perhaps communication wasn't altogether impossible.

Interesting.

* * *

After a few days, he was finding he really liked this dimension. It made him feel high on life.

At least, he'd assumed it had been his euphoria at finding a maze that was getting him so keyed up, as he was more powerful than he'd ever been in this new dimension.

Not having a fully functioning brain, it had taken him two weeks to puzzle through the full implications of the issue.

It had been catalyzed when one of the humans had shown him a disturbing video. It was a picture of himself, but created in a style clearly not their own, which appeared to be a work of fiction in which he featured as an antagonist.

This was bad.

Because it was exactly what he would have encouraged if he were less conscientious and desired power.

He'd left a note, to explain what he was doing, and then gone off on a little excursion of his own.

* * *

When Lord Death and Stein had found a Kishin wandering around Shibusen's Hedge Maze, Black-Star had been the most excited about it.

For, as those who had seen the way he'd been with that jar of wavelength-sapping water Stein had given him could testify, Black-Star couldn't resist a challenge, and made frequent trips back to the DWMA for the sole purpose of seeing how long he could stare at his friend the Slenderman before passing out.

Of course, the Assassin had also been trying to teach the Kishin language. Asura had been able to talk, the Kishin from the woods had been able to talk, so why not this guy?

Well, it was much easier said than done, and most of the time, Black-Star just wound up watching stuff on YouTube, because it was interesting, occasionally exchanging cryptically written pictures and words to comment on content. It wasn't much, but it was conversation, at least.

One day, he'd decided to show Slenderman the highlights of 'Marble Hornets'.

In retrospect, that might not have been the best idea, as, the next day, they'd found the maze empty, save for a note which read, "Going to go kill myself, be back when I'm done."

No one was exactly sure what to make of the last part, but the first part seemed to imply that Black-Star had driven a peaceful Kishin to suicide, and Black-Star was chewed out about how he needed to be more responsible.

* * *

The next day, Slenderman had returned, hauling a dead body and and a red soul that both obviously belonged to one of his own alternate counterparts. Analysis by GLaDOS later revealed that the body was native to the Death Scythe dimension.

This was terrifying.

Then, impervious to their incredulity, Slenderman then settled back into his maze, having gained a considerable amount of power since they'd last seen him.

Because, as it turned out, killing your self in an alternate universe really _did_ serve to make you stronger. There was no reason against it. And, after all, just because something's a plot device in an old science fiction movie, that doesn't mean it can't also be true.

* * *

AN: It's only a matter of time before this site is flooded with stories giving Slenderman a sympathetic backstory, so I'm getting on that wagon while the getting's good.

By the way, it honestly didn't occur to me to ask before, but is using the name "Death Emperor" for an evil Japanese Shinigami offensive or in bad taste?

When I hear 'Emperor,' I think of Napoleon Bonaparte, who crowned himself and dreamed of world conquest. It just recently hit me that the concept of Emperor worship might make this a more complicated issue than I'd originally thought.

Anyway, if it doesn't bother you, feel free to ignore my rambling. If enough people complain, I'll probably change it to Death King, Death Lord, or Death Monarch, but none of those have quite the feeling of grandeur I was going for... ah well, I'll cross that bridge if I come to it.

Also, I'm thinking that random stuff will keep happening up through chapter 47. It's not set in stone, but that's my working estimate. After that, I'll probably try and write out the whole final battle before I post it. So, expect to be stuck with a cliffhanger for a few months, once I get to the end of all this silliness.


	35. Chapter 35

At this time, the Ouran-verse Liz, Patty, Tsubaki, and Soul had just finished filling out paperwork, and were being shown around the Ouran Alliance by an enthusiastic Mitsukuni Haninozuka.

"And here's the kitchens," he said. "They have lots of yummy snacks in here!"

Mori nodded.

"These are the living quarters," he said, a few minutes later. "Hang on, I have your keys somewhere..."

"Keys?"

"The other Soul-kun and his friends pretended to be you for a few hours. It was enough time to get your stuff packed up and moved here."

"How...?" began Tsubaki.

"Portals!" said Hani. "You should go visit GLaDOS, when you have some free time. She can explain it. Plus, she's usually willing to give souls in exchange for time served as test subjects, so it's a good way to start working towards becoming Death Scythes. I mean... unless you are already?"

"Death Scythes?!" said Tsubaki. "That's not even legal..."

"Well, no," said Hani. "But we do it anyway. "Takashi and me are Death Scythes already."

"So... we're encouraged to seek power?"

"Yep! So you probably don't have any souls yet, I'm guessing..."

"Well..." said Liz. "Actually, Patty and I each have 8 souls."

"I've got twenty-nine," said Soul.

"Five," said Tsubaki.

"Not a bad start," said Hani. "I'm sure you'll fit right in. I'll introduce you to some of the wielders of our organization later. You can see if there's anyone you'd like to try working with."

"Sounds good," said Tsubaki.

* * *

It was a relatively normal day at the Time Wasters' Society when they were interrupted by Maka Albarn. She opened the door and looked around, before entering and striding purposefully across the room.

Tamaki, of course, noticed immediately.

"What's this?" he said. "I thought you were taking the day off club activities, Miss Maka. Welcome! So glad you could make it!"

The blonde rolled her eyes, resisting the urge to whack the guy on the head with a textbook.

Instead, she nodded in greeting.

"Sorry, no time to chat. I was just looking for Chrona."

"Maka?" asked the meister from across the room, where she was talking with the Hitachins. Such a sight wasn't a friendship most people would have predicted, but both parties knew what it was like to have an unbreakable bond with another person, and that gave them some measure of commonality. "What is it?" asked the black-blooded meister.

"You haven't seen Ragnarok recently, have you?" asked the scythe meister. "That moron needs to die."

Chrona's expression became alarmed. "No. He and Excalibur went out to destroy something, I think. Why? He didn't do anything too awful, did he?"

"He told Kid about palindromes, and the nut hasn't slept since the night before last. He spent all last night creating mirror phrases. Since we're roomates, this means none of us have gotten to sleep, either. Black-Star's just about ready to explode, and the rest of us await only news of the traitor's location."

"'Palindromes?" asked Chrona

"Words or phrases that read the same forwards and backwards," explained Maka. "like 'race car', or 'rats live on no evil star.' I don't think Kid's going to get bored with it anytime soon, and he refuses to train, or shut up, while he's having this much fun. So, if you see the Screaming Sword... drop us a line, would you?"

"You're not going to hurt him?"

Maka smiled innocently. "Chrona, he a centuries-old superweapon. Do you really think we _could_ hurt Ragnarok?"

Chrona seriously thought about it. "Yes," she said.

Maka laughed. "Fine, we won't hurt him... we'll just maim him, a little—as soon as we find a way to distract Kid, that is."

"Um... Maka?" Chrona gestured to Angela, who was currently practicing using her powers by turning into the other people in the room. Currently, she looked like an exact dupilcate of Mori.

Maka smiled a smile that was laced with madness.

Angela waved, seeing that the others were looking at the two of them.

"Hello, distraction." she said. "I'll be right back."

* * *

After that, a good number of people clustered around Chrona, including Anya Hepburn and Haruhi Fujioka, who had been comparing favorite brands of instant coffee, as well as Renge Houshakuji.

"Wow," said Renge, "That was the most words I've ever heard you say at once!"

"Well, Maka's, shes my—my friend." Chrona smiled shyly, feeling slightly put on the spot, not to mention nervous, without Ragnarok by her side. "She was the one who invited me to come to the DWMA."

"You must be close," observed Haruhi. "Normally, you're very shy around others."

"I owe Maka a lot," admitted Chrona. "She saved my life, and the soul of my partner, Ragnarok."

"The guy she wants to kill?" asked Kaoru.

"She doesn't want to kill him," said Chrona. "She's just annoyed. She had to deal with Kid in symmetry-mode for a whole day. Any sane person would want to commit murder."

Just then, the door opened, and Maka reappeared. She and Black-Star were frog-marching a third person between them, who was going on about how he preferred lasagna to salami, by the sound of his rambling.

"Hey, Kid, look," said Black-Star, pointing squarely at Angela and Mori, "symmetry!"

Then, Maka and her companion dropped their captive onto the floor and rushed out of the room.

For a moment, Kid just sat there, blinking at the duo in curiosity.

He then got up and walked over to the two of them, and circled around, viewing the comparison between the apparent 'twins' from from all angles before announcing:

"Chirality."

Angela blinked up at him.

"What?" she asked, though she was still imitating Mori, so her voice was an imitation of his.

"You made yourself into Morinozuka's mirror image, Angela, not his double," Kid explained. "Alone, you're chiral, but, together, you're completely symmetric. Enantiomers. Like right and left hands."

"Kid, has anyone told you lately that you're insane?" asked Tsugumi. "How could you even tell something like that...?" asked the Halberd, who tended to hang around Hani and Mori whenever they had tea parties.

He waved a hand. "By the standards of Shinigami I'm merely a charming eccentric." He turned around to meet the Halberd's eyes, then looked back to the Angela in confusion. "Where did Maka and Black-Star go?" he asked in perplexity.

Chrona shrugged. "They've probably barricaded themselves in you guys' room, by now. From what I hear, you had a fun time brainstorming last night."

Death the Kid frowned. "Last night?"

"Yeah," said Chrona. "It's Tuesday now."

Kid blinked. "No wonder they were in such a bad mood, when I tried to talk to them."

Chrona laughed. "You didn't hear them telling you it was the middle of the night?"

"I heard myself thinking about symmetry—" Kid slumped in depression. "I can't believe I did this again!"

Chrona patted his back comfortingly, "They understand, Kid; they're not mad at you. Shinigami aren't supposed to sleep, and they get that you're still getting used to not needing it anymore."

Kid wasn't listening.

"—when I'm onto something interesting, I just don't think about human sleep-patterns. I'm a worthless pile of asymmetric trash!"

"Kid, you're not trash and you know it," said Chrona. Then, a thought seemed to occur to her. "...I will have to warn Ragnarok before Maka gets ahold of him, though," she muttered to herself. "Why he thought this was a good idea, I can't even guess..."

Then absently, almost as though she had forgotten about her audience, Chrona sprouted a pair of dark feathery appendages from her shoulders, and flew off in search of her weapon.

"Heh," said Meme, from her seat near Tamaki in the airhead corner. "Black blood gives you wings! You should sell it in cans and then get sued!"

Renge shook her head, catching sight of a still miserable Death the Kid, who was pounding his fist against the floor in a fit of grief. "I know how to distract him," said Renge to the room in general.

"Hey, Kid," she said. "You're a Brony, right? Ever visited the charming land of fanfiction?"

* * *

Mifune had not been having a good week. Claiming partnership with Excalibur may have helped the weapon to avoid unwanted meisters, but it wasn't doing much to scare the Death Scythes off from partnering with him. In fact, they were even trying to be helpful by having five weapons partner with him for this latest mission, to give some measure of approximation for the infinite sword style. Much as he may have appreciated the gesture, Mifune was still missing his Samurai swords.

They'd been in Japan for the past week, investigating what Azusa referred to as 'a disturbing lack of incidents.' As it turned out, investigating an absence was a more painstaking than investigating a crime. On the bright side, he hadn't had to do much. That was something, at least.

He'd kept tabs on Angela by calling home every day, though he wasn't exactly wracked with worry as it seemed that his newest allies were, in fact, halfway-competent babysitters.

After extensive research, Azusa had decided that there might be some truth to the rumors of the masked vigilantes that some called 'superheroes' who were said to run around at night, killing Japan's pre-Kishin. And, after several nights of staking out various buildings downtown, they had finally found them.

Of course, the vigilantes weren't about to stand around and answer questions, so now they were fighting.

They'd tried to run first, but had underestimated the restraining power of Mifune's caution-tape barricade. No one was getting into or out of their battlefield until one of the sides surrendered or died.

Now, the opponents of the Samurai and the five Death Scythes weren't bad at all, in terms of fighting-abilities. There were three wielders and four weapons: the tallest of the meisters wielded a sniper-rife, the next tallest fought using a shield and sword, and the shortest was wearing body-armor and using martial arts. They were rather skilled with their weapons and it was probably only a matter of time before they'd turned their weapons into Death Scythes.

But Mifune was a Samurai with a soul as powerful as ninety-nine normal souls.

And he had five Death Scythes as his weapon partners.

It wasn't even a contest.

And so, Mifune had been going at a nice, even pace, altering between use of the Demon Crossbow, Mirror, Hammer, Fist Iron, and Guillotine, as he wore down the opponents before him.

However, when they were about three-fourths of the way to exhaustion, by Azusa's judgment, one of the fighters' masks had come off, and the face that looked back at him was a familiar one.

"Fujioka?" asked the Samurai, pausing a moment in surprise.

He snapped out of it when the shortest one tried to land a roundhouse kick on his head.

"How do you know my name?" asked Haruhi Fujioka.

"What?" asked Mifune. "We've known each other for—"

"Mifune," reminded Vajra, resuming human form. "We're still in our own dimension."

He actually had to think about it. It took him fully ten seconds to realize what was going on.

"So..." he said, disbelievingly, "that's _our_ Fujioka?"

"Yes," said Azusa.

"So, she's never met us," he said.

"Correct," said Tezca.

Mifune sighed theatrically. "I remember back when my life was simple: protect Angela, that was it. Now things are all $##$* up."

"A seven man band, including the weapons," said Justin. "She's probably not the only one we know."

The sniper rifle flashed and transformed into another masked figure. "Just how do you know us?" he asked.

They all recognized that voice.

"Oh god."

"_He's_ here, too."

Azusa met his eyes, repressing the urge to smile, though some of the warmth bled over into her voice. "Do you believe in the concept of parallel universes?" she asked. "We are what some people call 'sliders'. Those who visit worlds that 'might have been' here and _are_ somewhere else... though not under our own power. The whole thing is a long and complicated story that is best told in times of peace, but... if you'd like to know more, find Aperture Science and ask for GLaDOS."

"And should you ever find yourselves in need of allies," said Marie. "Shibusen is always willing to help those who fight for justice."

"We'll keep that in mind," said the Demon Sniper Rifle, whose voice sounded exactly like the Ouran dimension's Kyoya Ohtori.

"We'll leave you to your work," said Justin. "Though I'm fairly certain you'll be running this country, inside of a year."

With that, Mifune unraveled his caution-tape web and the six members of Shibusen were on their way.

Once they were out of earshot, Mifune turned to the Death Scythes. "No one tell Hero Swordson about this," he said.

"Why?" asked Marie.

"Because if they had Kyoya Ohtori and Haruhi Fujioka, then they certainly had Tamaki Suoh... and I don't want to have to stop tormenting Hero by suggesting that he's our universe's version of the Host Club King."

"That's a good reason," agreed Marie.

* * *

Well, after that was over with, and Azusa had done some research on the Scythe-verse iterations of the Ouran Alliance (they were all wealthy prep-school students, save for Fujioka, who was a scholarship student) the whole group headed back to the DWMA.

Upon entering the Time Wasters' Society, the first thing Mifune saw was Black-Star, wielding Soul's weapon form and ambushing the Hitachin twins, who didn't take the attack well, and started a furniture-throwing brawl, which was watched by... ah, there was Angela, over in the corner with the rest of the spectators.

"So," said Mifune, after they'd hugged in happy reunion and watched the fight for a few minutes. "Did anything interesting happen while I was gone?"

At that moment, there was a blood-curdling screech. A few seconds later, Death the Kid ran past the open doorway, still screaming, with no apparent source of danger in sight.

"Not really," said Angela, leaning against his arm, unconcerned by the sound. "Watched cartoons, mostly. You're not related to Speed Racer, are you?"

"Not so far as I know," answered the Samurai calmly, as he was also used to the theatrics of Team Albarn.

Next, the human form of Deng Dinga, one of Shibusen's Death Scythes, appeared in the doorway. The expression on his face was one of concern, but he was stopped from going after the Shinigami by a bemused Patty Thompson, who was holding his arm to prevent him from doing so.

"It's not because you're an Ax," she explained. "It's because you're a Rainbow."

"Yeah," agreed Mifune. "Doesn't look like anything's changed."


	36. Chapter 36

There were occasions when Kyoya Ohtori wished that his life were simpler, and this was one of those times. Perhaps, if he hadn't opened the Pandora's box of alternate universe travel, things wouldn't have gotten to this point, but he honestly didn't think that they'd have gotten very far without it. Perhaps, if he'd had more success in ignoring the plight of weapons, his father and brothers wouldn't have tried so hard to kill him... though without those assassination attempts, he might never have even met half those he now counted as allies. Maybe, if his father had assigned him to medicine or business as an area over which to preside, rather than academia, he'd have been better able to build his army...

And maybe if he were a wielder instead of a weapon, he'd actually have had a shot at inheriting his father's power. What was he doing? He wasn't a tangled mess of human emotions like his sister. Speculation changed nothing, and he had things which needed doing.

Shaking his head, Kyoya finished composing a letter to Yuki Nagato, which detailed the history of the Ouran Alliance and its allies, as well as offering an open invitation to join them in the fight for justice. Ah, now _there_ was a Shinigami who understood the value of madness. It was always good to find sensible gods. It made him feel just a tiny bit better about their collective prospects for not destroying the universe.

Next, he sent a text message to Tamaki, reminding him to stop whatever idiotic thing he was doing and go meet up with the rest of the wielders for today's diplomatic mission to the Death Scythe Dimension.

A few minutes later, a knock sounded at his door. It seemed as though the three Scythe-verse wielders were here. Wonderful.

"Come in," said Kyoya.

"Thank you for coming," he told Maka Albarn, Black-Star, and Death the Kid as they filed in. "I have a favor to ask of you."

"What is it?" asked Black-Star. "Should we go get the rest of our team?"

"That should not be necessary," Ohtori told them. "At any rate, I believe they're at some weapons-only meeting at the moment."

"Oh, okay."

"That's part of why I asked you here," said Ohtori. "Would you be willing to help train our wielders? Perhaps show them around your own organization today?"

"Of course," said Kid. "Such acts of sharing knowledge are part of why father asked us to come here in the first place."

"Is that all?" asked Maka.

"I believe it—ah, yes. One more thing. Ms. Albarn, you might want to tone down the meister-on-weapon violence. Some of the people here are sensitive to that sort of thing."

Maka frowned. "Violence?"

"Quit Maka-chopping people, I think is what he means," offered Black-Star.

"He didn't say 'people', he said, 'weapons'," said Maka. "That means I can still hit _you_, so watch what you say."

She turned to Ohtori and bowed. "Sorry about that. It didn't even occur to me that I was being insensitive. I'll try to do better in the future."

"It's understandable. From what I gather, your organization takes a lighter view of combat than does ours. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting to get to."

"The 'weapons-only' one?" asked Black-Star.

"As far as most members of this organization know," said Kyoya. "I am nothing more than a human weapon, so I am included amongst their ranks."

Kid paused, uncertain about something. "It's need to know, your... nature, that is," he said, trying for delicacy. "Who exactly knows about it?"

"Those who were at the meeting," replied Ohtori, "and my family. That's all."

* * *

"This," said Ayame Ayanokoji, "Is an intervention."

"A what?" asked Liz, eyes narrowing in suspicion, looking around at the gathered weapons of the Ouran Alliance.

"An intervention," she said. "For the four of you. You need to find new wielders."

"Haha, yeah, sorry. No." said Tsubaki, looking deadly serious. "That's not going to happen."

"Over my dead body," said Liz.

"They're abusive," said Ayame.

"No, they're not," said Patty.

"Yes, they are." said Renge. "Look, I get that they're nice people, in general, but there's a certain kind of person that doesn't do well as a wielder, because they can't see their weapon as anything other than an object... and those three fall squarely within the profile."

"$# & your profile," said Soul. "It's our choice, and we're not changing partners."

"It's weird," sighed Ayanokoji, glancing at Soul. "It's like you're the masochist in whatever sort of sick relationship you've got going on."

"Well, first I don't know what you mean," said Soul.

"You see..."

"I don't _want_ to know," he clarified, making a face. "Are you saying that you think Maka and I are... together?"

"I'm not saying anything," said Ayanokoji. "I just wanted to let you know that, in Ouran, things are different. You don't have to... submit... to your wielder the way you might be expected to do back home."

"What? No, it's not like that—we're _partners_!"

"It's consensual?"

"We're _partners_, but not like _that_!"

"Okay, fine," said Ayanokoji's mouth. Her tone said, 'I don't believe you'.

"Look," began Soul. "It's not like that, and if we ever decide to make it like that, it's nobody's business but ours. My relationship with Maka has always been one of back and forth: I insult her, she hits me. You wouldn't think it was weird if we were siblings, would you?"

"Black-Star doesn't abuse me," said Tsubaki, feeling that her statement was obvious.

"He treats you as an object, spies on you in the bathroom, and issues commands in a degrading manner," argued Ayanokoji.

"He's... kind of a handful, I'll give you that," admitted the Shadow Weapon. "The washroom thing is just because we're both Assassins and he has no sense of decorum. Age-old adage is that an Assassin is on guard, even when in the shower. He knows he can't sneak up on me any other time. And it's not like I don't lodge throwing stars into his skull every time he tries it..."

"They command you to transform. They don't even say 'please'," Ayame pointed out.

Tsubaki sighed. "It's not degrading. It's just easier, in the heat of battle."

"And in practice?"

"Well... yeah," she said. "Look, we don't mind. Isn't that the important thing?"

"Not if you've got Stockholm Syndrome."

Tsubaki facepalmed, and Ayame moved on to the last two weapons.

"The death-god was sexually harassing you two," she said.

"What?" asked Patty.

"He was objectifying you!"

"He was obsessing over our bone-structure," said Liz, recalling the incident to which Ayame was referring. "That's completely normal for him. He's actually come a long way. Patty, remember that time he had a nervous breakdown because our chests were different sizes?"

"Ah, the old days..." said Patty, shaking her head fondly at the memory.

"He _what_?!" Ayanokoji was outraged.

"Look, it doesn't matter," began Liz, "I'll have you know that, when we were forced to take a hiatus from our partnership with Kid, we each had eighty-nine souls—" but the red-haired Death Scythe wasn't finished.

"I know things are different where you're from," said Ayame, "but we're a weapons' group. You don't have to let them dominate you," she said to Liz and Patty. "You don't have to become romantically involved with technicians." Here, she glanced at Soul. "You don't have to call them 'meister'. We have our own wielders here, so you have other options."

"You really don't get it," said Tsubaki. "Look, they never looked down on us or tried to hurt us, or treated us with anything less than respect in any of the ways that matter."

"But they're dangerous and unstable," pointed out Renge.

"So are most of us," pointed out Patty.

"You people are all insane," said Ayanokoji, shaking her head.

"What do we have to say to convince you guys they're good people?" asked Liz in exasperation.

It was at this point that Kyoya Ohtori entered the room.

"What we have here," he told the four Scythe-verse weapons, "is a failure to communicate. You four seek to show that your wielders respect you, but you're using cultural examples that don't translate.

"If I'm not mistaken," he said, "your team was nearly dissolved because of an altercation with Witches? Perhaps that would be a better story, if you're trying to convince people from our dimension."

"Okay..." said Patty, looking at Ohtori like he had a screw loose. "Well, these two Witches turned our meisters into weapons, so we had to finish turning ourselves into Death Scythes before we could help Kid, Black-Star, and Maka... and now we're all Death Scythes and still a team?"

"What?!" exclaimed the room in general.

"You're Death Scythes?" asked Renge.

"Yeah?" said Liz.

"Your wielders were turned into _weapons_?" asked Kanako.

"So?" said Soul, somewhat defensive. "They're still more qualified to be meisters than half the 'wielders' I could name."

"And this was before all of you were Death Scythes?" asked Ayanokoji.

"Does this mean that you're going to get off our case about finding new meisters?" asked Patty.

"I believe I can steer things from here, yes," agreed Kyoya Ohtori. "If you have other things you need to be doing."

"Okay. Bye, crazy people!" said Patty. The other three also left the room, uneasy expressions on their faces.

* * *

When they were gone, Kyoya Ohtori straightened his glasses and addressed the room.

"Six months ago," he began for his silent audience, "their three wielders were transformed into weapons. After that, do you know what they did?"

"Stepped aside and let their weapons become _Death Scythes?_" asked Ayanokoji, still incredulous at the notion. That _never_ happened. Either the wielder committed suicide, or they insisted that nothing had changed and tried to continue on as they normally would. Come to think of it, those people also usually wound up dying...

"No," said Ohtori, to the vast confusion of those in the room. "As it turns out, Soul Eater Evans was _already_ a Death Scythe at that point. They stepped aside so that he could form a team with the other three weapons who weren't yet Death Scythes, forsaking their own progress in the interest of not slowing down their teammates. Once those four were Death Scythes, they allowed themselves to be used as _weapons_ until they'd consumed a hundred souls and regained their own abilities."

He snapped his notebook closed and glanced over the gathered weapons. "As near as I can tell," he said. "There is no particular dignity associated with the role of the weapon, or of the wielder, in the Death Scythe Dimension. By their own standards, these people are not normal: they are _legendary_: a team known for their courage, compassion, and, camaraderie, who took on an S-class Kishin and came out victorious.

"Find new wielders?" he said, looking amused. "You would sooner convince Sting to forsake Bilbo, or Iris to abandon Ra..."

He turned and walked towards the door, leaving them with one final remark:

"I've said this before and I'll say it again, there is a _reason_ we are allied with these people."

* * *

There weren't many meisters in the Ouran Alliance, as it turned out, but Tamaki Suoh seemed to be their leader, along with his young 'apprentice' Shiro. Coven Nekozawa and the Hitachin twins were also included, as well as Hani and Mori (though they were weapons they usually acted as meisters). There was also a group of three girls that those in the Death Scythe Dimension hadn't met before.

"Hey," said Haruhi, as they passed through one of Shibusen's larger corridors. "Where did Maka and Black-Star go?"

"Haaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

"Whooooooooooo!"

****Crash****

"I believe they are chair-jousting." said Kid, shaking his head.

"Not bad," said Stein to his kids. [Stein thought of his students as his kids (either that or his lab rats. It was hard to tell sometimes)]. "Maka," Stein said, "you need to get going faster, if you want to take out a more massive opponent. And Black-Star? Someday you're going to have to learn the importance of _aim_. Again."

"Yes, Stein-sensei!" said the two, snapping off salutes and wheeling their chairs to opposite ends of the hallway to begin another round.

"This is a typical day of training for you?" asked Nekozawa.

"More or less," said Kid. "Once you reach a certain threshold of power, being able to psych out your opponent and catch them off guard becomes a much more significant part of combat. Would you like to try?"

"Yes," said the twins.

"Too bad Kyoya's not here," said Tamaki, as the two Hitachins found chairs and began careening down the hallways themselves. "A rifle would be just the thing to add some insanity to that game of yours."

"Ohtori carries a rifle around?" asked Kid.

"Oh no," said Tamaki, "he _is_ a rifle!"

"Oh, you mean his 'weapon' form..." said Kid carefully. "Suoh, how well would you say that you know Ohtori?"

"Very well! He's my weapon!"

"Your... weapon," said Kid, not sure what to make of that. He knew that Suoh was unaware of Kyoya Ohtori's status as a Shinigami, but he was less certain about whether he truly believed the cover story.

"Have you ever been on a mission together?" Kid asked, fishing for information.

"No," replied Suoh.

"Have you ever trained together?"

"No."

"Have you ever seen him transform?"

"No," admitted Tamaki, "but he said that if he ever does fight, I can be his wielder!"

"Right," said Kid. "Well, you have fun with that."

At this point, however, Tamaki had become distracted.

"Hey, look a vending machine! Who wants to play kick the can?"

"I'm up for it," said Kasanoda, eyeing the swivel-chair brigade with some amount of disbelief, willing to jump on board with the first sane idea that came around.

* * *

And so, as Tamaki Suoh and the other wielders of Ouran learned, an average day of training for the Shibusen meisters was not, on the whole that much different than a day of slacking off.

A few days later, it was back to business as usual. After a day of training with the various weapons who requested his assistance, Tamaki spent another day of trying to bring some semblance of charm to the Time Wasters' Society.

It always helped to maintain some measure of awareness over the conversations in the room around him. In the center, Blair and Black-Star seemed to be discussing some aspect or other of magic.

* * *

"If Kirimi's a cat, then why does she have ice powers?" asked Black-Star.

"Why not?" said Blair. "A Witch's powers—they're taken with what the human associates with their animal self. Medusa must have been doing calculus in the cradle, to realize that snake heads look a little bit like vector arrows. I lived on a pumpkin farm as a kitten, and the farmer was the only human I knew during childhood. Kirimi, though she's a cat, has always had a thing for snow-leopards. It's a personality thing more than an animal thing."

"Huh," said the Assassin. "Go figure."

* * *

"Wait," said Liz, who was sitting with her group along the south wall. "You guys don't have a pool?"

"Or a garden?" asked Patty.

"We're a military organization," said Haruhi, shaking her head.

"So are we!" said Patty.

"We have no money," said the Dragon Witch. "The income from that play you put on? We spent it stockpiling food for a siege..."

* * *

And, ah yes, those two fairies appeared to be back, and were over in the corner, nursing hangovers.

Maka Albarn, who had been looking into Celtic mythology recently, was questioning them about their origins.

"We were kicked out of fairyland because we stood up for this group of poor defenseless humans," said Silver.

"Yep, not because we were drinking at all!" added Sapphire.

Silver shook her head. Well, there went _that_ story's credibility...

* * *

Later on, in an extremely well-thought out plan (Tamaki's idea), the strongest of the Ouran Alliance's fighters (and Tamaki), were exchanging combat tips and techniques with their visitors from the Scythe-verse.

He honestly hadn't been expecting to see what he was now looking at.

Team Death Scythe seemed to be trying out complex interchange maneuvers that involved switching out wielder-weapon roles in order to throw opponents off guard. Liz and Patty took the lead, as they had the most experience in such matters.

Then, Maka partnered with the Thompson sisters for a demonstration, once they'd gotten the hang of it.

"I can see this being very useful in the future," said Maka, a self-satisfied smile on her face, as she changed from whip to human, trading place with Liz who was at that same time turning from human to pistol. "Oh," she said, realizing something. "You guys have that taboo about public transformation, though. So this might not really be applicable..."

"Actually," said Renge. "Not all of us care. I'm French, for example and, for us? Transformation is completely natural and nothing to be ashamed of."

"Cool," said Soul. "It's nice to find something familiar. What with no one ever transforming, it's kind of hard to tell who's weapon and who's meister around here."

"Why are all the weapons girls anyway?" asked Patty.

"Well," said Haruhi. "Research indicates that the Y-chromosomes aren't great for weapon tendencies... but it could also just be that female weapons tend to have a harder time of it, since most wielders are male, and that the majority of those desperate enough to join the alliance are female."

"Oh, just shoot me now." said Maka, putting this together with Ohtori's warning about violence. "We've been steamrolling through a cultural minefield again, haven't we?"

"Big time," agreed Soul, recalling the recent 'intervention' attempt.

"What's the damage?" she asked.

"Not as bad as the incident in Thailand," said Tsubaki. "But not a whole lot better either."

"What happened in Thailand?" Tamaki wanted to know.

"While chasing after a pre-Kishin, we kind of toppled over a procession of monks that were going out on alms rounds," said Death the Kid.

"They fell over like dominoes," added Black-Star, helpfully.

"Apparently, you're not supposed to do that," said Maka. "Although they didn't seem all that bothered: just got back up and walked on. It was the spectators who were glaring at us the whole time. Apparently, lay people are supposed to hold religious figures in high esteem, so..."

"The point is, we don't do well with other cultures," said Liz. "We go in with little-to-no research and usually wind up causing an international incident, or destroying something priceless. Although, you'd be surprised about how often those two overlap..."

"What we're trying to say," continued Tsubaki, "is that we _know_ that we tend to do this, and we're trying to do better. Both us and our meis—wielders. See? We're learning."

"So, look out Ouran-verse!" said Patty. "We're about to show you how Team Death Scythe does cultural sensitivity!"

* * *

AN: Thus ends the 'yay, I'm done with finals!' writing party. Not sure if I can get anything else written before school starts, so updates will likely slow back down again. Thanks for sticking with me this far! Excelsior!


	37. Chapter 37

AN: Copyright? Libel? What're you talking about? Lalalala, I can't hear you! Lalalalala...

Also, I'm sorry in advance about the Cats.

Okay, that was a lie; I'm not sorry... but I can see why it would be annoying. General rule of thumb: if you can replace the human with a cat and still have their maniacal tirade / woeful angst-fest sound convincing, you're golden.

And, if not, you should still turn them into cats anyway, because it's funny.

* * *

Liz, Patty, Tsubaki, Soul try to give the Ouran weapons advice:

"You only have five Death Scythes?" asked Liz

"We know you have a few more but—" began Kanako.

"We have _sixteen," _Soul pointed out.

"Yeah, but—"

"How do you expect to maintain world order with only five Death Scythes?" asked Tsubaki.

"We hadn't really thought that far ahead yet," admitted Renge.

"We know you guys aren't big on wielders," Patty began, "but they can be a great asset. They've got a strong wavelength, they'll carry you around, and the two of you fight together, united, against the forces of darkness. It's a pretty sweet deal."

"Oh, but we _all_ fight with wielders," one of the weapons told them with a smirk.

"What? You can't. You only have, what?" Tsubaki starting added numbers under her breath. "Four Witches plus 2 Clowns, Tamaki, Shiro plus Hani and Mori and the Zuka Club..." then at normal volume, "thirteen of them? There are more than a hundred of you..."

"Yes," said Hina. "We take it in turns to work with the wielder who best suits our particular wavelength. As of now, every single weapon of the alliance has fifteen souls: all 182 of us."

The Shibusen weapons blinked.

"That's enough to make over twenty-five Death Scythes!" exclaimed Patty.

"Minus the Witches' souls, of course," added Liz.

"We have a different way of doing things," said Hani, shrugging.

"Those five of us who are Death Scythes," began Ayanokoji, "are the five of use who prefer to work without a wielder. As for those who do work with a partner, each of the wielders specializes in a different type of wavelength, much like different personalities in a boy-band."

"Or character-types in a host club," offered Renge, much to Tsubaki's glee.

"Huh," said Soul, "Well, long term, that's an acceptable strategy, I guess, but don't you think it might behoove you to change it a little? You know, since we're at war and all."

"How so?" asked one of the weapons. They really needed to start learning more of their names.

"You have thirteen wielders," Liz said. "Plus the seven of us. That's enough manpower to make twenty more Death Scythes."

"Twenty?!" gasped the great multitude.

"You're including your three wielders?" asked Hani, who was among the first to recover from the sheer ambition of that last statement. "I'm not going to lie; they look terrifying."

"Well... they're actually a lot scarier than they look," Tsubaki admitted. "But they're also very good at what they do. If making Death Scythes were an art form (which it arguably is) then go ahead and call them the Great Meisters, for the Renaissance is at hand."

"Hmm..." the Ouran Weapons considered this.

"The first thing," said Patty, while the others mulled their suggestions over, "is to decide who's willing to step aside for the sake of letting others become powerful. I know, it's a lot to ask of a weapon..."

Before she could say another word, every single Ouran weapon took a step backwards.

"... I was not expecting that," she said.

"You overestimate the desire for power," said Ayanokoji. "Most of us simply want freedom. Few have the heart to fight for it anymore."

"Well, since there's no real demand... all our wielders should be capable dual- or even triple-wielding at this point," said Soul. "Would anyone be willing to train intensively towards becoming a Death Scythe if you were allowed to have another weapon or two in the team?"

After some discussion, three obviously unrelated girly-girls stepped forward. They were Kanako and two of her friends. "We'd like to work together," said Kanako.

Renge and two others came forward. "Team Otaku, reporting for duty."

"That is not our name," said one of her teammates: a girl with light hair and dark makeup.

"We can debate labels later," said Tsubaki. "Any others?"

Two weapons who probably normally partnered with Nekozawa, if their goth attire was anything to go by, stepped forward. One of them was a guy, though, so he stood out even more. "We'll volunteer," said the girl.

"Cool," said Soul. "That's a start. Anyone willing to work alone with a wielder?"

No one moved.

"Baby steps it is, then," said Tsubaki. "Well, you seven want to come with us? We'll introduce you to our wielders, find who can best match with who..."

* * *

Black-Star, Kid, and Maka discuss Death Scythe formation with the Ouran wielders:

The three Scythe-verse wielders stood in front of a blackboard. On it were written the words, "How to make a Death Scythe."

"Right," said Black-Star. "Well, in order to make a Death Scythe, you have to feed a weapon ninety-nine Kishin-egg souls and one Witch Soul."

"We know that," said Benio, leader of the three Zuka wielders.

Black-Star blinked. "Then, why aren't you doing it?"

"It's not as easy as just saying it!" protested Hikaru.

"What do you mean?" said Black-Star. "Of course it is! You say you're going to do it, and then you go out and do it! Couldn't be simpler!"

Kid sighed, shaking his head.

"Perhaps an example," said Maka, glancing from the Assassin to the chalkboard. She grabbed a piece of chalk and scribbled for a moment.

"Black-Star," she commanded, taking the floor and sweeping an arm to indicate the problem she'd just created, "solve this equation."

"It's not the same," he said, seeing what she was trying to imply.

"Yes it is!" said Maka. "You say you're going to do it, and then you do it!"

"Oh," said Black-Star with dawning realization, "... I get it! You're saying that they're stupid!"

"No, Black-Star," Maka said with a sigh. "I'm saying that we are not entirely sane, and it wouldn't be reasonable to expect normal people to have comparable work-ethics."

He stared at her in confusion. "What?"

"They're not trying to surpass the gods," Maka clarified, in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Oh, _small_ people. Why didn't you say?" He turned to the assembled wielders, giving them an encouraging smile. "In that case, you're doing very well, small people. Keep up the good work!"

Kid and Maka flinched in embarrassment at his patronizing tone.

"Well," said Kid. "He's a little hardcore, but that doesn't mean we can't compare training techniques."

"For example," said Maka, "In Shibusen we offer a wide variety of missions and training exercises for young meisters and weapons..."

* * *

When the Scythe-verse weapons went in to check on their meisters, the seven Ouran weapons in tow, they found Tamaki, traumatized, and curled up in the corner; the Hitachins and Coven Nekozawa standing slackjawed; and the three Zuka Club members looking scandalized.

"There's something seriously wrong with you guys," said Shiro, shaking his head.

"Things not going so well?" Tsubaki asked, drawing attention to their presence.

"We're not great with teaching people," admitted Kid, after greetings and introductions had been exchanged. "We probably should have asked Stein-sensei or some of the others to help."

"I don't know," said Liz. "I think they'd be even more ill-at-ease with professors who sometimes try to kill their students."

"Oh, yeah..." said Black-Star.

"What?!" The seven weapons who'd walked in were horrified.

"Well, that rules out Stein and Sid, but Marie-sensei's never done anything like that," Maka pointed out.

"Although, she _did_ once consider marrying a toilet..." said Patty

"Wow, I didn't even realize, but yeah, she's _never_ tried to kill us," said Soul, his expression one of amazement.

"That's so weird," said Tsubaki.

"Please, tell me you're joking," Kanako asked, looking slightly green.

…

"So," said Nekozawa, eventually, in an attempt to change the subject, "your weapons were already Death Scythes by the time most of you became meisters again. Are you really sure that you're experts in the field of Death Scythe formation?"

"It's funny you should mention that," said Tsubaki. "We just so happen to have seven volunteers for trying the Shibusen Death Scythe Speed Run that these three have cornered the market on."

"They volunteered?" asked Black-Star. "Just like that?"

"Well, they're not budging from their current teams, so the one with the lightest workload will still be dual-wielding."

"What about their Ouran meisters?" asked Maka. "Wouldn't they be more comfortable working with familiar people?"

"_Dual Wielding_?" asked Haruhi in shock.

"_Lightest workload?_" asked Kasanoda.

"...I guess that explains that," said Kid, nodding in understanding.

They then finished up introductions and spent a few minutes going over details of these new partnerships.

"So..." began Patty, after the ruckus had died down some, "now things can finally go back to normal."

"Normal?" asked Renge.

"Meisters are meisters. Especially ours. Kid and the others live for fighting, and now they have the opportunity to do what they love: forge death-weapons."

"That being said," said Soul, "you're probably going to have to tone down the badassery when working with Ouran Weapons."

"Why?" asked Black-Star.

"Okay, my turn," said Kid. "Black-Star, do you remember that song Patty stuck Marcus' ipod into playing in an infinite loop?"

"The one that nearly drove him insane, because he'd rather listen to a song he loathes indefinitely than go without music," prompted Maka, when the Assassin looked blank.

"The 'Spaceships' one?" hazarded the meister.

"Yes," agreed Kid. "Do you remember the tune?"

"Oh yeah," said Black-Star, frowning in distaste.

"Hate that song," Soul muttered.

"Here, listen to this," said Kid, summoning a laptop (a trick he'd learned from Ohtori). "This is the same song, performed by children with whitewashed lyrics."

The music began playing. Maka and Soul face-faulted in unison.

"I hate this more," said Soul, his tone venomous.

"Okay, okay!" said Black-Star, horrified. "You're right! You're right about everything—just turn it off!"

Kid frowned, but did as he'd been asked. "I wasn't trying to elicit agreement through torture," he explained, looking slightly regretful.

Black-Star was aghast. "Then what the heck _were_ you trying to do?"

"Illustrate the issue at hand," said the Shinigami. "Yes, listening to this kind of thing, personally, makes me want to break both my eardrums with a ballpoint pen. But some individuals—probably sensitive people who like the carefree/empowering tone of the music—actually prefer this version. Taste isn't a universal constant, and it most certainly isn't a trans-universal one."

"Meaning?" asked Maka.

"We're like Nicki Minaj to these people."

"Ouch," said Maka, wincing.

"Lowbrow, foul-mouthed, and unrefined," continued Kid. "And since that's how they see us, we can't use our normal training practices here without being horribly offensive. In short, treat everyone like they're made of glass."

"We're talking PC out the wazoo," agreed Maka.

"And as a counterpoint," said Kid, turning to the Ouran Weapons. "To us, you're like Kidz Bop: needlessly uptight, possessing questionable judgment, and ever-so-subtly disturbing."

"Well, that's a little harsh," said Maka.

"Only a little?" asked Tamaki.

"Sorry," she said, giving a helpless shrug. "Culture, am I right? What can you do? I suppose we could have also used that show about Glee Club, but the metaphor wouldn't be as apt."

"... never mind." said Kaoru, shuddering in horror.

* * *

Some time later, Aperture Science:

"Okay," said Kid, "Time to decide which universe to start hunting in."

"So, we're looking for 700 pre-Kishins and 7 Witches?" asked Black-Star

"We could do that..." began Maka.

"...or," finished Kid, "we could go hunt us down some Kishin."

"Ki—Kishin?!" asked Renge's friend, Kristen.

"Yeah. GLaDOS, you were saying that, if a Kishin soul is used, you can usually get away with just one Kishin and one Witch soul to make a Death Scythe, right?"

"It depends on the power level," said the AI. "Your Asura was to Kishin what I am to computers. Some Kishin aren't any more powerful than ten normal pre-Kishin, it all depends on corruption, souls consumed, and other factors."

"What about those 4 Kishin we killed here?" asked Maka.

"Very low-level," said GLaDOS. "They were unstable enough to be undone by paradox."

"Asura was killed by paradox," Liz pointed out.

"It occurs at extremes," said GLaDOS. "Most Kishin are mid-range in terms of power, and relatively stable."

"Okay, then: two questions:" said Kid. "One: is there a dimension with 7 corrupt Witches and 7 corrupt Kishin at least ¾ as strong as Asura? Two: can you give us directions?"

"Creating more Death Scythes, are we?"

"However did you guess?"

"Query: do you care if the Witches are Fairies and the Kishin are Cats?"

"Will it affect the Death Scythes made in any way?"

"It shouldn't."

"Then we don't mind."

"To answer your question, no, I know of no dimension with those exact numbers. How do you feel about twenty-nine evil Kishin one half as as strong as your Asura and twelve Witches?"

"Let's go!"

"...Wait!" said one of the weapons, Reiko. "Shouldn't we do some planning and research first?"

The seven Shibusen kids caught up short.

Sighed.

"...all right," said Maka. "I guess we're doing things the responsible way. Come on, guys, let's go find the Cats, the Fairies, and we should probably talk to Ohtori also..."

* * *

The two armies had been massing for the better part of a day when the two strange Cats arrived, and started milling around the feline side of the feline-Fairy standoff.

Vash watched fondly as a butterfly fluttered past.

Million Knives killed the spider he'd been tracking surreptitiously for the past several minutes with a swipe of his claws.

Vash and Knives were brothers, two sandy-colored Cats with long and short hair respectively.

Now, these two, as a matter of fact, were not the strange Cats mentioned earlier; they were conscripted members of the standing army, and very good at their jobs, even if Vash did hate killing with every fiber of his being.

"Knives," said Vash, eyes narrowing in annoyance, "You really shouldn't do that."

"But you get all worked up if I kill sentient beings," said Knives. "Allow me some small pleasures in life, at least."

Before they could converse further, a violet Cat neither of them recognized pounced into view, making a great show of stalking the white butterfly Vash had just been admiring.

"Stop!" said Vash, his expression worried.

Knives hissed in warning.

Sensing she was about to do something she'd regret, the newcomer stopped mid-pounce. "Hello!" she said. "Sorry, I didn't realize you were going to eat that."

"We weren't," said Vash, "But we'd rather you didn't kill it, just the same."

"Which unit are you part of?" asked Knives. "Your commanding officer should have instilled at least some sense of discipline before letting you out into the field. Seems like standards are slipping again."

"We're visitors," said a tan Cat, walking up to stand on the purple Cat's tail to prevent her wandering off again. "You could call us... feliologists, of a sort. We're scouting out local culture, seeing if it's worth investing time and energy for a full-time study."

"You are aware that this is a battlefield?" asked Vash.

"Where better to observe a society?" asked Belzenef. "For it is how we conduct ourselves in war that reveals our fundamental character."

"Where are you two from exactly?" Knives asked.

"As far as you're concerned?" asked Belzenef, his tone dry. "An alternate universe."

"Right," said Knives disbelievingly. "I bet it's Lorgh. No one ever admits to being from Lorgh... and how do we know you're not spies for the bugs?"

"'Bugs'?" asked Blair, tilting her head to the side. "Oh, you mean the fairies. We're not here to get involved, but whether you believe us is up to you. If we were interested in spying, though, we've got both sides covered. We've got a pair of faeologist colleagues working the other side of the lines."

"You're working with fairies?" asked Vash, surprised.

"Definitely from Lorgh," muttered Knives.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the Fairy Army:

"Why do you have skulls on your uniforms?" asked Sapphire, her expression one of innocent curiosity.

"They represent Death," replied Holly, one of Captains who'd agreed to talk to them (with the ulterior motive of determining whether or not they were spies).

"Because it's inevitable?" asked Silver, trying to be open-minded about it. She lived not half a mile away from a place called 'Death City,' after all.

But Holly was shaking her head. "We've been pawns for so long that Death is our hope and only savior," she told them.

"What?" asked Sapphire.

"We don't want to kill the Cats, and they don't want to kill us," she said. "But we're controlled by the Witches, and they're under the thumb of the Kishin. All we can do is keep fighting until the end, when the grim reaper comes."

"A Shinigami?" asked Silver.

"I do not know that word," said Holly, "But Death rides a metallic mare with flaming mane, followed always by his two aids: the Assassin and the Cleric. The Assassin, the balanced one, kills people and brings their souls to Death; the Cleric, though darkest of the three, heals those whose time has not yet come. These two are his companions, whom he trusts to wield his own weapons without turning against him."

The two fairies exchanged a long look.

"That wouldn't happen to be a prophecy, by chance, would it?" asked Silver.

"No," said Holly. She turned to give those two her full attention. "Why?" she asked.

"Look behind you," suggested Sapphire.

Holly did.

And she nearly plummeted from her perch on the tree in shock.

Though, admittedly the two Scythe-verse fairies understood a good deal more about what they were seeing than did Holly, Julius, or any of the other people they'd talked to.

Apparently, Kid and the others had put two and two together, and realized that slaughter was what was about to happen here, and were set on doing something about it.

Kid, it seemed, was working with Renge and her two friends, as he was holding the Demon Game Controller, and mashing buttons for all he was worth. The other two weapons were Mei Sonoda, a Boomerang, which he'd just thrown at the commander Witch's head, as well as Kristen Price, a Robot Unicorn, upon which rode Kid, clad in his Shinigami robe and mask. Kristen's weapon form allowed him to plough through the lower ranks out of his way and make a beeline for their target.

Black-Star was right behind him, also triple-wielding a Fan (Kanako), a can of Pepper Spray (Laura Saunders) and a Taser (Rebecca Ingold). It was the most girly of the three combos, and it was beyond the two fairies how he was making traditionally non-lethal weapons do so much damage.

Maka raced beside Black-Star in Kid's wake, apparently having partnered with the Black-Magic duo, and wielding a Baton (Reiko Kanazuki) and a Ring (Royce Carthage).

The Witch at the head of the Fairy Army went down screaming, and for a moment, there was heart rending silence as the Reaper stowed her soul away for later.

Then, the armies came to their senses and scattered.

They needn't have worried, though. As Death and his two assistants had eyes now for no one but the Cat Kishin who lead the other army.

Blair immediately transformed to help them, as did Belzenef. Sapphire and Silver followed suit, despite the fact that neither of them was a great fighter.

The fight took no more than thirty minutes, and was concluded by a rock-paper-scissors tournament to determine which weapon got to consume which fraction of the Kishin's nine souls. Interestingly enough, the weapons themselves were apathetic about soul allocation, and it was left the wielders to advocate on their behalf.

"Well," said Kid, removing his mask, "That was a good day's work," he said, as the weapons consumed souls in the background.

"Seriously," said Silver, shaking her head. "You couldn't have waited half a day for us to scope the place out?"

"Hey, don't look at us!" said Black-Star. "It was the weapons who wanted to show up early. Sure, we're all for justice, but we're not about to drag unwilling comrades onto the battlefield. They were the ones who insisted we come and prevent needless slaughter."

"Really?" asked Blair. She'd gotten the impression that the Ouran weapons, by and large, were spineless wimps.

"We just couldn't sit back and watch innocent people die," said Kanako.

"Of course not," said Maka with a smile. "Of course, we've lost the element of surprise so I don't expect it will ever be that easy again, but..." she trailed off as she saw no fewer than twenty Cats and Fairies staring at them in awe.

"Um... hi?" she said, giving them a weak wave.

"Aaaaaah!" they screamed, running for the hills, terrified beyond belief by her simple greeting.

"So much for making a good impression," said Black-Star, not seeming bothered by their reception.

"Kyoya Ohtori is going to kill us," said Kid.

* * *

AN:

So, I just give OC's American names, because I'm pretty sure any non-American names I come up with would be stupid.

Also:

Anthropology: Study of humans.

Feliology: Study of Cats

Faeology: Study of Fairies.

(Only one of these three is a real word)


	38. Chapter 38

"Okay, Not Class," said Mifune, to the assembled group of students, standing only feet away from death-bus, which had transported them all several minutes ago to their current location.

"And Hero," interjected Anya.

"And Hero," agreed the Samurai nodding at the Eat meister, as they all stood at the trailhead near the wood's edge.

"As I found out this morning," he continued, casually admiring the way light glinted off his katana,"my colleagues have decided to put me in charge of the annual Not Class camping trip," he told them, pausing a moment to take out a sheet of paper, holding it up so they all could see. "And these are the instructions they gave me."

Curious about what the paper might say, the students leaned forward to read:

_How to Supervise the Camping Trip:_

_ Step 1: Drop the students off at the woods._

_ Step 2: Tell them to hike up the trail and to return when they've found the Special Flags._

_ Step 3: Once they're out of sight, drive away._

_ Step 4: Laugh._

_ Step 5: Return one week later for the survivors._

Mifune passed the paper around before he resumed speaking. The students made noises of shock and worry as they realized what was going on.

"... presumably, they want you to learn how to survive on your own in an unfamiliar environment," finished the Samurai.

"You're not going to make us do this, are you, professor?" asked one of the girls, looking terrified at the prospect.

"Well, I can't very well do it now," he replied, with an apathetic shrug. "You'd know that the 'special flags' aren't real."

The kids giggled nervously, feeling slightly more secure, but still unsure where he was going with this.

"That being said," Mifune told them, "if anyone does want to take off into the woods for a week, with no luggage and to live off the elements, you'll get full points for the assignment, as well as extra credit."

A quite muttering started up as students considered their options.

"Ragnarok," said Chrona, nudging her weapon, tilting her head to the side in a questioning expression.

He grinned. "So long, suckers!" said the Screaming Sword, as the two of them vanished into the greenery without another word.

"Anyone else?" asked Mifune, watching them go.

No one moved.

"Right, then," he said. "Now, as far as anyone from Shibusen is concerned, I followed their instructions to the letter. Understood?"

"Yes, Sensei," chorused the students, eager to please if it meant avoiding a week of being stranded in the wilderness.

"Very well, then," he said. "First thing to learn: choosing a campsite..."

* * *

Perspective 1:

Well, it wasn't the end of the world.

Most people would have tacked an 'at least' onto the front of that last sentence, but, in all honesty, Ragnarok was one of the few individuals who actually preferred the apocalypse to normality.

Keep himself and his meister alive when the odds were stacked against them a billion to one? Sure, that was doable, in fact he'd done it for thirteen-odd years, before Medusa's death. Kill or be killed? The answer was always 'kill'. He was the top dog, the one that did the eating, if things came down to dog-eat-dog.

And he was okay with that, he really was. Especially considering the alternatives. Ruthlessness was a part of his personality, and it always would be. If the world decided to end, then he'd survive, just like he always did.

That was the upside.

The down- was that he'd spent years needling and outright bullying Chrona into bending to Medusa's will, for the sole excuse that captivity was the surest way to ensure his own survival.

And now, now that they were laying low under the sheltering wings of a goody-two-shoes Shinigami—the best of most possible outcomes—all of a sudden, his actions weren't looking so good in hindsight.

It was all well and good to say that he'd done what was necessary in order to survive—but that also didn't make it any less true that he'd helped Medusa turn an innocent child into a monster.

If he'd known things would have worked out in the end, well then of course he would have killed the Snake Witch years earlier—possibility of dying in the attempt or no, he'd have found a way—but how exactly was he supposed to have known there were people out there who'd take them in, just like that, who weren't also looking for mindless weapons to do their dirty work...?

All these self-debates and half-acknowledged worries had been floating uneasily around Ragnarok's head ever since they'd joined Shibusen. And, out of a sense of repressed guilt, he'd been walking on eggshells around Chrona for much of that time. Despite what he might say in the spirit of bravado, Ragnarok knew that he was far from flawless—he didn't see that changing anytime soon—and, now that they were relatively safe, those flaws might spell the end of their demonic duo.

Their partnership had never been one of choice, after all: it had always been forced upon them by greater powers. And who was to say that Chrona wouldn't run away and find another weapon the next time Ragnarok inevitably lost his temper with her? Now there was no excuse of sharing the same body, and no Medusa to enforce teamwork.

And he wouldn't have admitted it under torture, but Chrona was his true meister: one of the few who'd ever been able to partner with him without becoming a mindless wreck of a human being in the attempt. Wielders like her didn't show up more than once a millennium, at best. If she left him—and he knew that she would, sooner or later—well, what exactly the hell was he supposed to do then?

* * *

Perspective 2:

There were many, many things on this earth that terrified Chrona: social activities, for one; small children, for another; and honestly, even wet kittens could be alarming, if you met one of them alone in a back alley... but, though the world was a scary place—filled with things that quite often sent Chrona running away, screaming—her partner, Ragnarok, was not one of them.

If pressed, of course, she would admit that he was bossy, and often insufferable; that he could be cruel and selfish, she wouldn't even attempt to deny...

But frightening?

No.

For she was equally aware that there were a million and one obvious ways to torture someone through the circulatory system—and, when she got right down to it, what had Ragnarok ever really done to her?

Besides hit her on the head, threaten sleep-deprivation, and try to pants her in front of her friends, that is. Because while, yeah, that stuff was annoying and mean-spirited—it was also stuff that a douchebag of an older brother might very easily have done to his younger sister. In other words, things that didn't even take advantage of the fact that they shared a body.

Going even further, they were actions that required him to manifest himself outside her body, which was unnecessary and more than a little showy. It was almost like he'd wanted to make it obvious how hard he was being on her. For the watching eyes of a certain Snake Witch, perhaps?

Because, honestly, if all he'd wanted to do was control her, he could have threatened, in tones spoken from the capillaries near her eardrums where only she could hear, to stop her heart, shred her organs, or even simply fail to harden the black blood in battle, unless she did as he told her.

And he never had, even though he'd quite often used that method for snarking unhelpfully during awkward social situations.

Now, don't get her wrong, Chrona knew that Ragnarok was far from a saint. He would never be a kind and caring weapon, like Tsubaki, or a calm and collected one, like Soul.

But then again, she herself was no Black-Star or Maka. And, if there was one thing Chrona knew, it was how to deal with her weapon.

* * *

Actions:

They'd found a clearing, within walking distance of a stream, and were starting to put together a shelter. First Ragnarok felled trees, and Chrona sawed them into boards; then Ragnarok hammered them together into a cabin (they didn't have nails, but when Ragnarok hammered things, then they stayed hammered) and Chrona started a fire (in a circle of stones, fortunately, and not in the forest).

"Ragnarok?" she asked, as she threw some wood onto the fire.

"What?" he replied, still turning the spit on which rotated a deer he'd killed earlier.

"What's your favorite state?" she asked.

That threw him for a loop. "Of mind?" he asked.

"Of the union," she corrected.

"Why?" he wanted to know.

"Well, most people in the Not Class don't go on to work for Lord Death," said Chrona, with a shrug. "The rest of the team is applying to college. It seems a shame to be left behind, so I'm going to enroll in a police academy, maybe become a bodyguard after a few years. You gonna come?"

He considered that. "Sure, why not?"

"Okay. So then, which state should we start in?"

"Florida, maybe?" he said. "It's still warm, but not a desert."

"I don't know, I think New York might be nice."

"Oh, come on! New York's way too urban," he said, smacking her across the shoulders in exasperation.

Then he realized what he'd done and inwardly flinched.

Chrona frowned, and punched him in the arm in retaliation.

Ow... huh, that was new. When had Chrona grown a backbone?

"How about California?" she suggested, not missing a beat. "You've got mountains, oceans—"

"—and tons of insufferable hipsters to beat up?" suggested Ragnarok.

Chrona snickered. "There's that," she agreed. "And, either way, we've got some time to think about it," she said. "It'd be a good idea to send out transcripts once we get back... but the rest we can put off until a week or two before the deadlines. I asked Marcus, and that seems to be the way normal kids do it..."

An hour later Mifune, trailed by a few of their classmates, came to check on them.

"Impressive," he said, when he saw their camp.

Chrona smiled. "Not really," she said. "Mom used to send us camping all the time, when I was a kid."

"'Send you'?" the swordsman asked, confused.

Ragnarok glanced significantly at the list folded in Mifune's right hand.

What? What did instructions for abandonment have to do with—

Oh.

A wave of sympathy flashed through the Samurai, unnoticed by the young meister.

"Keep up the good work," he told them, suddenly feeling the urge to distribute positive reinforcement. "Don't eat anything poisonous, and we'll be camped just over the hill, if you need anything."

"Right," said Ragnarok, snapping off a salute; for some reason, feeling better than he had in a long while.

After all, just because he hadn't changed didn't mean Chrona hadn't. And, without the involvement of an abusive parent, there was a lot of room for things to go uphill from here.

Should be interesting.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the Ouran Alliance, life went on, more or less, as usual.

Chika Haninozuka and Satoshi Morinozuka had managed to catch the three wielders of Team Albarn on their way back to one of the Cat Dimensions, where they were spending most of their time training, these days. Currently, both weapons were doing the awkward, 'you tell them,' 'no you,' exchange that Kid, Black-Star, and Maka recognized from their early days of training as the 'property destruction confession'.

Getting bored with the standstill, Maka poked Satoshi in the chest. "You start," she said.

The two exchanged one last nervous glance, and the younger Morinozuka brother took a breath.

"Hey..." he said, trailing off in awkwardness. "So," he continued, "out of curiosity, which animals were the Witches who took your wielder powers?"

"Chimera and Hawk," replied Kid immediately "Why?"

"Those..." here cleared his throat, "were kind of the Witches we killed to become Death Scythes earlier this year..."

"Wait," said Black-Star. "I thought it was Hani and Mori who became Death Scythes last?"

"No, it was us," said Chika. "Our brothers have already been Death Scythes for years."

"But, the list said Haninozuka and Morinozuka—" said Maka. "Oh, right, brothers. I guess that explains it," she said, nodding.

"Cool," said Black-Star. "So we can cross 'revenge' off our to-do list now."

"Yeah," said Chika, "but, look. We didn't know what we were doing until it was too late, so we just wanted to say..."

"We're sorry, okay!" they said in unison.

"For what?" asked Kid, confused by the abject remorse he saw on their faces.

"When we ate the Witch souls," explained Satoshi. "We kind of also got the powers they took from you."

"Really?" asked Maka, looking intrigued. "Like what?"

"Our soul wavelengths are now Grigori," said Chika, looking reluctant, as though each word were being teased out of him with pliers. "We both have very strong soul-perception, and the strength of our soul-wavelengths have improved three-fold. Also, we can tell the Hitachin twins apart."

As the two weapons spoke, the three meisters' expressions slowly changed.

"Do you know what this means?" Maka asked, looking excited.

"We've got mini-me's!" said Black-Star, grinning like a maniac.

* * *

In the Ouran Dimension, Yuki Nagato and Kyoya Ohtori, sat across from each other in Kyoya's living room, their eyes fixed on their laptops, chatting idly as they both worked on projects for their respective organizations.

"Weapons eat souls?" asked Nagato, a hint of curiosity in her tone.

"Not exactly," said Ohtori, not looking up. "Do you really think the human digestive system capable of destroying a soul?"

"No," Nagato admitted. "However, can the system of a weapon be considered 'human'?

"Not technically," agreed Ohtori, "though, admittedly it's no more powerful than that of a normal human. As it turns out, the whole setup is rather convenient for us death-gods."

"Hmm," said Nagato, indicating her interest.

"Human weapons, though they were originally not intended for such," Ohtori continued, absently, "have developed something of a symbiotic relationship with the Shinigami. You see, when a human weapon devours a soul, it is a very similar process to the one I personally use when laying souls to rest: purify it, removing the corruption which is blocking it from moving on, then allow it to drift off to the afterlife.

"The soul has faded from the weapon's system before it hits the small intestine. The only difference is, at the end of the day, the human weapon is able to take in the corruption and use it as an energy source, making themselves more powerful."

"Can they do the same with pure souls?" asked Nagato.

"No," answered Ohtori. "Actually, in our world, that's one of the many ways to get a Kishin. Still, on the whole, it's not a bad arrangement. We Shinigami are still useful, but we have allies capable of helping in the worst of cases. Though, admittedly, we do sometimes have to confiscate them."

"The transient souls?"

"No, the powers the weapon gained from them. It can be either a purifying method for corrupt technicians or a disciplinary one for aberrant ones—" Here, Kyoya broke off to speak to the room's other occupant.

"Fuyumi," said Kyoya, turning to shoot a disapproving glance at his sister, "do you have to rearrange all the furniture in the room? You do living quarters of your own, you know."

"I'll stop doing this when you keep your nose out of my budget," replied his sister, shifting the bookshelf just a bit more to the right.

Kyoya sighed. Sure, being a semi-omnipotent death-god did have it's advantages, but the inclination to obsession was not one of them. He was just about to make a retort, when a knock sounded at the door, and two more Shinigami entered: Lord Death, and Death the Kid.

"Welcome," said Kyoya, folding down the lid of his laptop so as not to seem rude in front of the non-technophiles. "I'l like you two to meet Yuki Nagato. Ms. Nagato, this is Lord Death and his son, Death the Kid..."

* * *

After introductions, they moved on to the subject of age, a common ice-breaker among immortals.

"Well," began Fuyumi, "our father is ten thousand years old. Our brothers are three thousand and one thousand, respectively. I'm eight-hundred years old, and Kyoya here is five hundred."

"Seven thousand," said Nagato, who had put away her laptop and taken out a book to read, not quite understanding the social conventions she was attempting to emulate.

"You have quite the advantage on us," replied Lord Death. "I'm ten thousand, like my counterpart, but Kid-kun here is only eighty years old."

"What—how are you able to maintain such control at such a young age?" asked Fuyumi, eyes wide.

"I had a very strict upbringing," said Kid, his tone indicating that the matter wasn't one he wanted to go into.

Taking the hint, and turning to Lord Death, Fuyumi decided to change the subject. "Forgive me for asking," she said. "But why do you wear a mask?"

He paused, uncertain of how to phrase his reasoning.

"It's fairly common in my dimension," offered Nagato. "For a death-god to be upset or horrified by someone's manner of death is unthinkable. It is important that we remain collected and steady, to act as a reassurance to the recently departed souls. Because this is difficult, many reapers opt to wear masks."

"Oh," said Fuyumi, turning back to Lord Death. "So, that's it?"

"No," admitted Lord Death. "But I like that excuse a good deal better than the actual reason, so let's go with it!"

* * *

After a few minutes of frivolous conversation, Kyoya cleared his throat. "Now might be a good time to start planning for the war."

Kid nodded, unrolling a piece of paper. "We've brought a map of Shibusen. Would you like to see?"

Ten minutes later:

"Just who designed this place?" asked Ohtori, after a few minutes of examining the blueprints.

"That was me, actually," said Lord Death. "Couldn't get any architects to do the job, so I eventually just gave up and did it myself."

"I had the same problem myself," Kyoya commented. "History has not been kind to the architects. They're suspicious of anyone wanting to make anything too ambitious because, likely as not, the bankrollers will also be insane enough to think killing the designer afterwards is a good idea."

"So," continued Lord Death. "I just made the place myself, using my own powers. And when the laws of physics didn't want to comply, I simply ignored them."

"I notice," said Nagato, "that there are no fewer than three Death Rooms here."

"Actually, they're all the same one," Lord Death told them. "I just wanted to be able to get to it from a few different buildings."

"Who designed our hedge maze, anyway?" asked Kid. "It looks like something a drunk Excalibur might have created."

Lord Death frowned. "How did you know?"

* * *

Later:

"Give me back my hat, you big meanie!" Blair complained.

"Come on, man," said Kid, shaking his head, "it's just a stupid hat."

"Never!" said the thief as he adjusted the brim of Blair's stolen headgear. "This 'stupid hat' is now the property of the great Black-Star! Hey..." Black-Star complained, as the hat was snatched from his head.

"Nope," said Kid, trying the pointed hat on for size, "now it's the Death Hat."

And so it was—for about two seconds before Maka thought to steal it. "Hey, everyone," she said, "Look at me: I'm Blair! I'm gonna go use all the hot water and then try to seduce Soul for the fifteenth time today..."

"Honestly," said Belzenef, opening one eye from where he was curled up in the shade of a tree, "grow up, you three ..."

Suddenly, the three kids collapsed to the ground.

"Guys?" asked Blair.

"Wasn't me," said Belzenef, tensing in surprise, before bounding over to check on the fallen humans.

A tall man with blue hair emerged from the woods. He walked over to Maka, plucked the hat off her head, dusted it off, and returned it to Blair. "Here you are, Ms.," he said. "These three won't trouble you again."

Without another word, he strolled off.

"They're dead," said Belzenef, looking perturbed as he checked Maka's pulse, and found nothing.

"I wouldn't be so sure..." said Blair.

* * *

"So," said Tezca, "Where are your meisters today?"

"They're working with other weapons," said Tsubaki, "Circumstances never allowed Black-Star or Kid to turn us into Death Scythes, so they're having another go at it."

"Aren't you worried they might get themselves killed?" asked the Demon Mirror.

"Yes, those three don't strike me 'cautious' in any sense of the word," agreed Justin Law.

"Are you joking?" asked Tsubaki.

"What?" asked the Guillotine.

"You do realize that Kid's a Shinigami?" asked Patty.

"And that Black-Star's a godlike ninja-assassin?" said Tsubaki.

"Hell," began Soul, "Maka has so many rare soul-attributes that, at this point? Even a nuclear weapon might not be able to bring her down..."

"Plus," added Liz, "they're so optimistic that, between the three of them? They've probably got enough serotonin to drop a horse."

"Pfft," Patty giggled. "Poor deranged monsters don't stand a chance against the power of friendship."

* * *

"Blair, I hate to say this, but I heard their necks snap."

"Do you also see the shadows?"

"The what?"

the Cat of Chiroptera examined the humans more closely, and noticed something that he'd seen only once before: the shadowy aura of a death-god's regenerative powers. Smoky shadows wreathed Kid's neck, presumably healing the fatal injury he'd received, as easily as breathing, which, incidentally, the Shinigami had just started doing again.

This was fine, usual, nothing unexpected. The strange thing was that the scythe meister and the Assassin also had healing shadows.

"Alright," said Belzenef. "I'm not so self important that I won't admit when I'm lost... and I am currently not even on the right planet."

"I don't know," said Blair, "But I'd guess, when you think about it..."

"Could they also be death-gods?"

"I really, really doubt it," said Blair.

"Ow," said Kid, sitting up. "What just happened?"

He saw the other two. "Damn," a frantic expression appeared on his face. He lurched forwards to check the pulse in Black-Star's neck, only to stop short as he found it covered in darkness.

"What? Those are—"

"We think it means they're secret death-gods," said Blair.

"—those are... mine?"

"Seriously?" asked Blair.

"Well, that's not nearly as much fun," said Belzenef. "But so long as you're all still alive, I suppose it doesn't matter."

"Black-Star? Maka?"

The two awoke at almost the same instant. Maka grinning maniacally, and Black-Star with star-pupils.

"Crap," said Kid.

* * *

"You're sure letting them go at it is the only way to get snap them out of it?" asked Belzenef, as he circled above the fighting meisters' heads. Black-Star and Maka were currently under the influence of their respective demons, and not taking calls at the moment. Rather than turning on their allies, however, they'd gone straight for the threat with the largest amount of killing intent: each other.

"No really, no," said Kid. "Do you have any better ideas?"

In reply, Belzenef let loose a wave of sonar, causing every living being within a twelve yard radius to flinch.

The three humanoids clapped their hands over their ears in pain.

"Ow," said Maka, her eyes losing their insanity. "Was that Ragnarok?"

"No," said Black-Star, also looking more normal, "It sounded more like Marcus."

"Wrong," said Belzenef. "Though, admittedly, there are a fair amount of sound-weaponizers around."

* * *

"What just happened?" asked Black-Star, after they'd all gotten over the shock and sat down to speculate.

"No idea," replied Maka.

"Near as we can tell," said Belzenef. "A human snapped your necks using an obviously superhuman power, walked off... and then you all healed using Shinigami shadows."

"His shadows," Blair added, nodding at Kid.

"Unless one of you has something to share about secretly being a death-god?" asked Belzenef.

"No," said the two in unison.

"Fair enough," said the Bat Cat. "Well, with the amount of evidence we have to go on, there are thousands of possible explanations and no way to distinguish between them."

"At a wild guess," said Blair, "it looked kind of like an empathetic healing, but it honestly could have been anything..."

"Death-gods," said Kid, looking skeptical. "don't do 'healing', empathetic or otherwise."

"You can heal yourself," Belzenef pointed out.

"I... suppose," said Kid.

"And Lord Death's powers seemed to jump-start yours, that one time when your own powers weren't working," added Blair.

"There's that," said Kid. "A Shinigami healing a Shinigami—all right, maybe. But a Shinigami healing a human? Never been done, and not for lack of empathy on our part, believe me."

"No..." said Blair slowly. "I'm pretty sure that empathy's only you. Compassion or sympathy? Sure, anyone can do that. But empathy means you've literally experienced what someone else is going through."

"Are there any other death-gods who've become humans?" asked Belzenef.

"One maybe," said Maka, "if you believe that 15th century journal they found in Scotland..."

"And nearly died during that time period?" he added.

"Hmm... no," she said.

"But that's just one theory," said Belzenef. "Admittedly, it's the one I'm backing right now, but that doesn't mean I put all my faith in it. We need more information."

"That means telling people," said Kid, looking nervous. He, Maka, and Black-Star shared a glance of pure discomfort.

"Yeah?" asked Blair, not sure why they were upset.

"Nooooo..." whined Maka and Black-Star falling over in despair.

"This is useful," said Kid, reiterating in an effort to explain the obvious, "which means we have to tell people, which means we'll forever be known as the team that relies on the power of heart."

"Goodbye, badass reputation; hello, children's fan clubs," said Black-Star.

"If it weren't for these 'powers of heart' you'd both be dead," Blair pointed out.

"Yeah, so?" asked Black-Star. "We know that, and we're more grateful than words can say that we're still alive... but we that doesn't mean we can't also be worried about our reputations."

"My little Death-god: Friendship is Empathy," said Maka, her expression one of fear.

"I don't care if we are all sentient beings," said Belzenef, shaking his head. "I will never understand humanoids."

* * *

AN: Expect a lot of flashbacks from here to Ch 47. But the next two chapters, whenever I get around to writing them, deserve special mention, as I anticipate them spending a lot of time in a place I like to call, "Emo Flashback Hell".


	39. Chapter 39

AN: Okay, spoiler warning for the later chapters of Soul Eater for this, but I must rant:

So, wait, if Kid's supposed to be a fragment of a Great Old One, then does that mean Lord Death is Cthulhu?

Gah—tentacles—no. Gods of Death and Madness, _no_.

And the whole 'Lord Death will probably die once Kid activates his full powers' foreshadowing makes me way too sad, so I'm gonna go with something less depressing, even if it does probably throw canon out the window.

Still, let no one say I'm skipping out on _all_ the unpleasant realities of being a death-god: I just take a different angle than the manga, that's all.

Prepare to angst your heart out.

* * *

For a Shinigami, to sympathize with humanity in the slightest was a guaranteed method of cultivating pain, for the same reason that showing affection to a friend with a terminal illness was a bad idea. In other words, the individual in question wouldn't be around much longer... and, the nicer you were, the more it would hurt when they were finally gone.

Of course, compassion being a bad idea didn't stop Kid in the slightest, regardless of the holes it tore in his soul.

Hell, even the terminal illness analogy wasn't fully adequate for the pain involved, because such illnesses were usually not present at the start of the friendship, and a normal human might linger, for years even, under the impression that their companion would be around for the rest of their own natural lifespan, before the tragic news revealed itself.

Perhaps a pet would be a better analogy, since you always knew you'd outlive a a dog or a goldfish? Only a thousand times _worse_, because animals weren't sentient...

Not that some of the more callous Shinigami, over the millennia, hadn't painted humanity as unpossessing of true sapience, due to the fact that they were never granted enough time to fully develop their potential.

But to Kid, it seemed more as though the humans were all children. Not in the sense that they were petty, most of them, but in the sense that there was no doubt that they'd be equals in intellect if they simply had the time for it, and the tragedy was that they never ever would.

There was the afterlife, of course. There was always the afterlife...

As a being bound to the mortal plane, however, it was much the same, to him, as if no such place existed at all. He'd see it one day, of course—because not even death-gods lived forever—but Shinigami only ever died in the cyclical cataclysms that killed off the immortals of the eon, in preparation for the end of one historical era and the beginning of the next. That didn't happen more than once or twice in a million years.

He'd always have father—thank the god of gods for family—and now the Ohtori siblings, Nagato... and that was only including the death-gods. There were the Clowns, sentient weapons, and even a Kishin or two among his circle of acquaintances, these days. Compared to last year, his world practically teemed with immortals with which to keep up social ties and relations. He _shouldn't_ be feeling this black abyss well up inside him at the thought of losing six humans he'd already known were going to die anyway.

But he was.

Most days, he managed not to think about it. He'd felt the same way with his adopted parents, with the following generations, and now with his current team, after all. You just lived one day at at time, and faced eternity when you had to.

And today was just one of those days.

* * *

A team was always greater than the sum of its parts, and, even under carefully controlled circumstances, you could never be quite sure what whole any given members would add up to.

Who could have guessed, after all, that a bookworm with daddy issues, a slacker musician, a shrinking violet with a lion's heart, a narcissistic ninja, an OCD death-god, a superstitious pragmatic, and an immature jokester would combine to form the feared and awe-inspiring Team Death Scythe?

Or that Team Ford would become the powerhouse of fire and lightning that even Witches thought twice before messing with?

Point was, the combination of powers and personalities inevitably gave rise to a unique team mentality among the participants—though this always arose, not necessarily obviously, from the team's core identities.

And, oddly enough, the seven Ouran Weapons who'd agreed to attempt a Death Scythe speed-run with the three lunatic wielders of Shibusen, when formed into a team, had quickly become meta and secretive, combining painstaking research and circling paranoia into a force that could have happily rivaled most countries' intelligence agencies.

* * *

In the Cat-verse, seven weapons of the Ouran Alliance were meeting up to compare findings on this new dimension. Compared to the DWMA, Ouran placed more of an emphasis on efficiency and foreknowledge than did their more intuitive (read 'brash') allies.

Renge, the most extrovertive, was the nominal leader, though the others had just as considerable an influence.

For instance, after noticing a large number of 'sevens' in their files, Laura had come up with a large number of code-names and references for adding a layer of insane secrecies to their team-powwows. As an example, their team's nicknames came from the seven ancient wonders of the world, and their collective code-name was 'the ancients'.

"The three Samurai still in the Mediterranean?" Renge asked Royce, speaking in code, even though the seven of them were completely alone.

"No," replied the Otaku, deciding to respond in kind. "They're recovering from injuries in the Pacific. Monday and Tuesday are with them."

"Alex," Reiko asked Mei, "any luck with finding their attacker?"

"Some, Giza," replied the girl. "Apparently, he's Legato Bluesummers, last human of this dimension... because he killed all the others."

"He's dangerous?" asked Kristen, a short girl with black hair and serious brown eyes.

Mei nodded. "From what I could dig up, he hates anyone who's not a Cat..."

"Not that I can blame him," said Laura, a willowy teenager originally from Navotas, "considering what he's been through, but..."

"He seems to be able to kill people with his _mind,_" Mei finished, looking disturbed.

"He sees the world as a dark place full of evil people, especially humans," continued Laura.

"Hates his own species, then" said Royce. "Hmm..." he rubbed his chin, trailing off.

"Rhodes?" Kanako, in the ensuing pause, asked of Rebecca, a strong brunette, who up to this point had been silent. "What have you been able to dig up about the Kishin and Witches?"

"Maps of their established domains and general knowledge as to their powers and personalities," replied the Demon Weapon. "Should be sufficient to plan our assault."

"Excellent," said Mei. Most people severely underrated the value of research, but those in the Ouran Alliance weren't among those number.

"You know," mused Royce, speaking again after finishing his train of thought. "I honestly didn't expect it to be this easy."

"Easy?" asked Laura.

"Well, not easy, exactly, but not impossible—nowhere _near_ impossible. And those three?" he said, referring to their temporary wielders, "_Brilliant._ Reckless as all hell, but I've never heard of anyone even_ thinking_ to go after low-level Kishin to make Death Scythes... and they just go out and do it, like it's nothing, like it's normal," he said.

"For them, I very much suspect it is," replied Kristen, a touch of awe in her voice... though no fear whatsoever: in all honesty, it was hard to be afraid of those who were both wholesome enough to enjoy children's cartoons and hypocritical enough to blanch at the thought of being compared to them.

"Yeah, juggernauts, all of them," agreed Reiko. "But, combined with our reconnaissance... I feel like we could actually _do_ this, become Death Scythes."

"You mean you didn't feel like that with the gunslingers?" asked Renge.

"Well, yeah, sure, but that was always 'be Death Scythes eventually' or 'become Death Scythes years from now'," said Reiko. "Not 'track down three Kishin a Witch, and then 'poof', instant Death Scythe'."

"It almost makes me want to track that Bluesummers guy down..." said Kristen.

"Feeling reckless are we?" asked Royce.

"Perhaps just a bit," she agreed.

* * *

Marcus Law with technology-withdrawal was not an inspiring sight. Lose your ipod for a week, it seemed, and you even started to think that Night Core's rendition of 'Stereo Hearts' seemed more and more palatable, as the days wore on. Fortunately, he retained enough of his self-awareness to realize that he didn't _want_ to lose all his musical standards during this trip. So, now was as good a time as any to join the group that was going to go see what Chrona and Ragnarok were doing. At this point, he'd take anything he could get for a decent distraction.

He was still depressed, though, and wound up lagging behind, walking next to Tsugumi's crush, Akane, who was too cool to walk with the eager beavers at the front of their posse, apparently.

"Is that Chrona?" asked Akane, his voice surprised.

"Sounds like it," said Marcus, lugging Night along in companion cube form. "Why?"

He started paying more attention, then, troubled by the other guy's tone. It seemed as though Chrona and Ragnarok had attempted fishing, and, judging by the dead bear floating face down in the lake and the shredded dock, spotted with the odd pool of black blood, they had not succeeded.

"Stupid Chrona," said Ragnarok, frowning. "Nice going, scaring away all the fish..."

Chrona snorted. "Stupid Ragnarok. What did you think would happen if you threw a rock at that thing? Fishing is boring, but that doesn't mean you need bears to liven it up."

Ragnarok hit Chrona on head.

Chrona poked Ragnarok in the eyes.

Two continued their scuffle as Marcus returned his attention to his conversation.

"When did Chrona get so antagonistic?" Akane was wondering.

"Eh? Wasn't she always like that?" asked Marcus. Sure, he'd never seen them escalate to this level of destruction before, but if Lord of the Flies and Lost had taught him anything, it was that going to the wilderness turned even normal people into violent psychopaths at times.

"No," replied the sword mesiter, "when we first met her, during the war against Asura, she was painfully shy. Terrified of her own shadow."

"She was scared all the time?" asked Marcus,

"Yeah."

"Well, that explains it," said the Demon Organ, unconcerned.

"How?" asked Akane.

"When you're afraid, you're afraid," Marcus shrugged, "you're not really yourself, and your personality doesn't show through. All terrified people look alike: it's only when you're calm that you can be yourself again."

"But, she was monumentally antisocial," protested Akane.

"She still is, by and large," said Marcus. "I'm not sure when the last time I saw her speak to anyone outside the Society was... but that's not the same as being afraid."

He turned back to see Chrona and Ragnarok hauling the bear carcass out of the water, apparently having made up and realized that they could eat something besides fish for dinner.

Akane was talking to Clay by this point, and Marcus took a moment to survey his surroundings, enjoying the silence. He supposed that, after he'd stopped having the shakes and cold-spells, silence really wasn't that bad, all things considered.

"Let's go to the beach-each, let's go get a wave. They say what they gonna say—"

CRASH!

Marcus winced, realizing that his body had acted on its own. "Sorry, Night," he apologized, walking over to retrieve the cube from where he'd thrown it into a tree. "Instinctive reaction."

Night played a mournful little jingle in response.

Marcus sighed, feeling some odd mixture of remorse and dread as the next words left his mouth.

"How about you play 'My Immortal' again?" he suggested. "You seemed to like that one."

Night perked up immediately. Marcus felt his heart sink. Other people got to reenact great literature and pointlessly complicated dramas on the camping trip, but his experiences were more reminiscent of the slapstick antagonism of Gilligan's Island than anything else.

Still, he thought, listening to the happy tone of Night's voice (and he had to admit that it took talent to make that song sound even remotely happy), there were times when you just had to make sacrifices for your team.

* * *

Eighty-odd years ago:

Standing at the epicenter of the carnage, Lord Death searched the remains of what had once been a city with grim resignation. Laying to rest any odd souls he'd missed on the first sweep, the Shinigami and his comrades scanned the ruins for any remaining survivors, human or otherwise.

Lord Death, even after working with humans for several years, continued to find them baffling on the whole, but had still managed to learned a thing or two about mortals. Because of this, he was purposefully keeping the true goal of his search from them. He could clearly feel the dark wavelength of the newly-created monster. If he could just—

There.

Levering aside the collapsed wall, Lord Death found it. Now he just had to destroy it, before the others wondered where he was. Gathering up a ream of shadows, the death-god prepared to do what had to be done.

"What are you doing?!" screeched a woman's voice, shot through with shock and anger.

Rachel, he realized with some amount of regret. This was going to be long and drawn out.

Indeed, the human woman was just now placing herself between the death-god and the two year old child he'd been about to kill.

"It's a Shinigami, Rachel," said Lord Death, trying to explain.

"He's a child!" protested the Demon Sword.

"I know it looks human, Rachel," he said, "but it's not. We have to destroy it."

Her face twisted in anger. "How can you say something so heartless? I'd have thought better of you, death-god."

He sighed. "It looks like a human," he repeated, "but it's not. It was born from the deaths of all these humans, and it will only get more powerful if we don't stop it."

"You can't do this!" she protested, spreading her arms as though she could stop him.

"I don't like it either," he admitted. Did she even realize how hard it was for him to kill one of his own kind? "but I have to."

"I won't let you." Her expression offered no room argument.

"Rachel, get out of the way," he said, weary already, though the deed had yet to be done.

"No." her eyes spoke of nothing but impasse.

"Neil, will you please—" Lord Death began, hoping to appeal to one of the other humans. "Neil?" he trailed off, unhappy, though also unsurprised, that the meister had chosen to stand beside his weapon.

"You want the kid, you go through us," said the sword wielder.

"You can't do this," he told the two of them, in a voice of hopelessness.

"Yes we can," they said, in steel resolution.

"Okay you _can_," the Shinigami admitted, "but it'll kill you. He's a death-god," he restated in the hopes that they'd realize exactly how foolhardy they were being. "Believe me when I tell you he could kill you by accident, even as he is now."

"He's a kid," said Rachel, "he doesn't know any better: we can't just kill him!"

"You really don't know what you're starting here..." said Lord Death, massaging his temples.

He looked at their determined faces.

"Fine," he said, deciding that this wasn't worth alienating his allies over. "Let me at least put a lock on its powers."

They allowed him through, and Lord Death used his own shadows to tear three strips of shadows off the toddler's hair, holding him down during the process, filling the blank spaces in with the stark lines of Sanzu. "These will keep his powers from manifesting in any dangerous form," he said, nodding in satisfaction.

"Why didn't you do that earlier?" asked Neil, exasperated.

"This kind of restriction is not pleasant," said the Shinigami, "and is normally only used on hardened criminals. It's been known to exacerbate existing mental conditions, or to cause them, should none be present."

"Do we really have to—" began Rachel, her eyes wide in sympathy.

"Yes," said Lord Death. "If you insist on keeping it—him, then he's not going to be able to control himself for a century or two. Harsh as it is, it's necessary."

With the immediate danger dealt with, the elder Shinigami finally allowed himself to look on his younger counterpart as something other than a threat.

It looked like a child, no more than two years old, if it had been human. Thankfully, it could walk on its own, and was currently toddling after the two humans, as they went to find the rest of the team for introductions. Black hair, gold eyes, and thin, certainly, but not skeletal in any sense of the word. Odd.

Well, anyway, the thing hadn't killed Rachel and Neil when they'd had their backs to it, so thank goodness for small favors, though now he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to convince them that it represented a legitimate threat.

Then again, this could turn out to be a good thing. Those two humans were, in all likelihood, the first (unmasked) living things the little guy had seen. And they looked just like he did. They'd even protected him from danger and showed exactly zero fear of him. It was entirely possible that the kid identified them as parent-figures.

Hmm. Now there was a thought. Could this be like one of those spam emails Ellis kept sending him? Pigs sometimes nursed tiger cubs for a few months to make them more docile as zoo animals, he remembered. Were the situations similar enough that such a strategy could actually work?

Well, maybe it would, maybe it wouldn't. Either way, he'd need to be present, but not actively involved. He didn't want to get so emotionally attached that he couldn't do what needed to be done, if everything went to hell. And, if this really did work, then the kid should be raised by humans for a few decades, anyway.

Hmm. 'the kid'. Seemed kind of impersonal. He wondered if Rachel would give the guy a name. Probably.

And if it worked, he'd finally have an ally of the same species. Now there was an interesting thought.

* * *

When Kid made houses of cards, he always used two decks, Liz remembered, as she entered the living room and saw the twin cardstock skyscrapers rising on the coffee table. Two sets, after all, ensured that symmetry could be maintained between towers, even down to the inside where no one would ever see it.

"Having unpleasant flashbacks?" she asked, seeing his listless stare, and recognizing the symptoms of depression.

"You could say that," he replied tonelessly.

He'd been four, he remembered, when the deep-seated need for order that was the hallmark of Shinigamity had first manifested itself. That had been a fun few weeks...

"What happened?"

Kid shook his head to clear it. "Near-death experience," he said. Though what was most disturbing him wasn't something he'd ever actually confided to the two of them.

She placed an arm around his shoulder. Patty did the same.

"We're still here," she reminded him, "all of us."

"I know." he replied. And yes, it was crushing that he'd lose them one day, but this was made twelve times worse by also serving as a reminder that, if it weren't for a mere fluke of upbringing, he'd be no different himself from the monsters that killed indiscriminately...

... but Liz was right. They were all still with him. For now.

Not forever. But for now.


	40. Chapter 40

Whatever may have been said of her by her victims/friends, Haruhi Suzumiya was not, in fact, evil.

Selfish, yes.

And impulsive.

And an unashamed hedonist.

And, unbeknowst to her, of course, a Kishin, which magnified those flaws to universal proportions.

But not evil, and most certainly not heartless.

That was why she was only making Kyon wear the cat-ears headband.

Because, Kishin or not, he was just the most fun, out of all the brigade-members, to mess with.

And the fact that the Shamisen duo couldn't resist rubbing affectionately against him made the catnip she'd covered the headgear in totally worth it.

"Haruhi," he said, frowning in annoyance, almost (but not quite) deciding that it was worth the indignity of pitching a fit in order to end his humiliation. "This is cruel and unusual punishment."

The brigade leader just smirked, an expression mirrored by Koizumi in the background. "If you're going to be late to a club meeting," she told him, "then it's only reasonable to expect retribution."

"Um," said Mikuru, looking monumentally uncomfortable and more than a little fearful. "I... I think those look good on you, Kyon."

"No comment," said Nagato, barely glancing up from her book.

Though, truth be told, she wasn't actually reading it.

The current state of affairs wasn't, by any means, an ideal situation. Of this fact, Yuki was well-aware. Suzumiya was unstable, and prone to becoming more so in her boredom.

That was why Nagato was willing to sit there and watch her torment the others day in and day out, and even to submit to Suzumiya's outrageous demands herself. Because of the simple fact that, so long as she focused her destructive efforts against the immortals of the SOS brigade, the humans of the realm were safe.

And, who knew? Water could wear down stone, of course, but acid rain would do it much faster. For a rogue immortal to independently develop a conscience might take a hundred thousand years, or more. But, if faced with peers it was incapable of killing? Most of which appeared even to understand the rules of civilized behavior? Based on extrapolations from current data, that time could be whittled down to three hundred years, according to her working estimate: five hundred at the outside.

So, at worst, she'd only have to endure another 1.58E10 seconds of this state of things. Assuming only 4 hours a day were spent on brigade activities reduced that number by an order of magnitude.

"Mikuru, you should wear the maid outfit!"

...2629799999 seconds and counting.

* * *

Today they were in Eastern Asia. Four days ago, it had been South America, and Australia the week before.

"So essentially," Azusa was concluding, "regional Death Scythes are managers more than anything else. If the pre-Kishin get out of hand, you step in, but otherwise, leave them for the Death Scythes in training."

"Got it," said Patty, waving her hand in lazy salute.

"Have you had a chance to visit before?" asked Azusa.

"No," replied the younger Demon Pistol, wide-eyed and curious.

"I'll give you the grand tour."

The Asian branch of the DWMA was, after all, one of their more impressive campuses, even if it couldn't match the American counterpart in terms of bizarre architecture.

"How are you faring, by the way?" the Demon Crossbow inquired of the four younger Death Scythes, after a few minutes of walking grounds and visiting the libraries and training facilities.

"Oh, just fine," said Tsubaki, with a pleasant smile.

"I know it can be hard on some weapon and meisters," prompted Azusa, "in the period right after they've become Death Scythes, that is."

"Ah... thanks for your concern," said Liz, "but I don't think we'll have any problems."

"Really?" Yumi said. "Good for you, then. God knows it was the kiss of death for my own partnership."

"Like... you dumped your meister after you didn't have to put up with her anymore?" asked Liz, her eyes narrowed in puzzlement.

Azusa gave a small shake of the head. "No. It's more like when a married couple finally sees their children leave the house, and then realizes that they no longer have a reason to stay together. Tricia was a very decent partner, and we still maintain correspondence and exchange greeting cards on the holidays, even... but now that we've both gotten what we wanted out of our partnership, the two of us have gone our separate ways. She as a general in the Ethiopian military and myself as a regional Death Scythe."

"Huh," said Patty. "Never really thought about it that way."

"Of course," Azusa admitted, "I should have realized the situation wouldn't be the same, in your case: having partnered with a Shinigami from the start. It's good to see such camaraderie in the heirs of order."

Tsubaki laughed. "Wanna see something even more inspiring?"

"What did you have in mind?" Azusa wanted to know.

* * *

Time Wasters Society:

"You're descended from weapons?" Kasanoda asked Maka.

"Well, yes," said the scythe meister. "It's kind of like being a squib in Harry Potter. You don't have magic powers yourself, but you know all about the traditions. Why not put them to good use?"

"Weird," was the Witch's only comment.

"Any weirder than segregating most teams along gender lines?" returned the meister.

"That's just common sense," he said.

"Ditto for us..." said Maka, who no longer seemed interested in continuing the back and forth. She stared at something, more probably someone, who was on the other side of the room.

"What is it?" asked Kasanoda, turning to look. Before he could focus on the other people, however, Maka laughed and sprinted over to the other side of the room.

"Soul!"

* * *

One thing to know about Team Albarn: they didn't do well with discretion.

"Woo!" yelled Black-Star, transforming into his weapon-form and landing on Tsubaki's shoulder.

The shadow meister giggled and shot a blast of wavelength at Soul.

The next second, Maka's weapon-form was in the Scythe's hands and slashing through some of the offending wavelength, and redirecting part of it at Liz.

Well, Liz used weapon-Kid to neutralize the incoming wavelength, and weapon-Patty to shoot back at Soul.

And soon, the seven of them had forgotten the other people in the room, flashing back and forth between weapon and meister as a dodging technique. It was apparent that they were all having altogether too much fun with violence to observe normal social niceties.

Their temporary partners had been excellent, yes, but they just weren't the people who served as complements to their souls as did their original partners. It was part of why they made such an excellent team.

Eventually, Belzenef had to stun them with a with a wave of sonar roughly equivalent in strength to a cattle-prod to get their attention off of killing their teammates.

''Can we have a bit more decorum in the meeting-room?" he asked, eyeing the overturned tables and scorch marks on the wall

"We haven't seen each other all week!" said Black-Star. "As far as we're concrened, decorum is for other people!''

Azusa smiled, taking a seat in order to mingle with a few of the other weapons. A few minutes break wouldn't kill her. "Inspiring indeed," she said to herself.

* * *

Though, not everything was an object lesson in friendship, and boredom brought its own diversions.

After an hour or two of catching up with Tsubaki and his other teammates, the Assassin meandered over to the Witches, unable to sit still through the tea-party-concept he found to be so boring.

Black-Star, in his quest to find something interesting, walked up to the table that contained half of Coven Nekozawa and said, bold as brass, "I'm bored! Who here is strong enough to challenge the deadly Black-Star in combat?"

Tsubaki glanced over at her wayward meister, shaking her head in fond exasperation. She briefly considered trying to drag him back to their table, but, after little thought, immediately gave up on the idea and went back to her own conversation.

Haruhi stood up. "You are aware," she said, an amused smile on her face. "That to challenge a Witch is to challenge her entire coven?"

The entire room started buzzing with anticipation. Were they actually going to bring combat into a place dedicated to time-wasting?

"The more the better!" said the great Black-Star. "To fight only one of you would be unfair!"

Haruhi nodded. "Non-lethal combat, I assume?"

Black-Star laughed. "That's up to you!"

"Non-lethal, then," said Haruhi. "Why don't we take this to the gym? I fight in my other form, and this room's a bit cramped..."

Black-Star grinned. "Excellent!" Then he headed off to the meeting place. The other Time Wasters followed.

In the short few minutes it took to walk across the residential wing of the Alliance, the news spread that a Death Scythe would be sparring with one of the Witches and it seemed as though at least half the Alliance had turned out to spectate, waiting for the fight to start.

Black-Star was there, with Tsubaki, Kid, Liz, Patty, Maka, and Soul to give moral support.

At least, he assumed Tsubaki was there to give moral support, until she sauntered up next to him, flashing a grin, before her body disappeared in a flash of light, revealing the form of dark arm.

In the other corner, Haruhi paused. "We're using partners?" she asked. "Fine by me. Let's get the formalities out of the way."

Meister Black-Star," said Haruhi. "You have challenged me as a Witch, and while that it what I am, that is not who I am. While I am here, I am a representative of Ouran's Alliance, and I shall fight you in your accustomed style. Hikaru, Kaoru. You in?"

"Haruhi," sobbed a certain blond wielder, "Fathers and daughters should fight together!"

She ignored him.

Black-Star cracked his knuckles. "Do all civilized Witches take fighting this seriously? I should have challenged Kim a long time ago!"

Black-Star flinched as a dictionary ricocheted off his head.

"Don't get cocky," said Maka, hefting another book in case he didn't get the message.

"Be warned," said Haruhi, "I shall also use my magic."

"And I shall use my great soul wavelength!" said Black-Star.

The two of them nodded at each other. Tsubaki remained her chain-scythe form. The twins laughed maniacally to each other and merged to form the Clown Hitachin, while Haruhi assumed the form of her animal self: a lithe crimson Dragon that probably weighed more than all the people in the room put together.

Black-Star, with a appraising glance at his opponents, rushed at Haruhi, who countered by dodging—much faster than she should have been able to do while being in such a massive form. The Hitachins took the opportunity to take a swipe at the two Shibusen partners. When Black-Star managed both parry the twins and take a swing at the Dragon Witch in such a way as to prevent dodging, the blow glanced harmlessly off her scales, and it didn't leave so much as scratch.

When he saw this was ineffective, Black-Star tried punching her while infusing his blow with his soul wavelength. This had little effect on Haruhi, though it seemed most effective against the Clown, and he grinned at the discovery.

"Tsubaki," he said, "Enchanted Sword Mode!"

"Right!" said Tsubaki, morphing into a new form. The added strength and speed allowed him to land a glancing blow against a crack in Haruhi's armor, and she hissed in pain. She then gave him a cold and calculating look, and her whole body lit up in flames.

Black-Star paused. "You okay?" he asked her.

Haruhi laughed. "I'm the Dragon Witch," she told him, "Flames are as home and kin to me—always welcome."

Black-Star grinned. "Right," and he resumed his attacks. "Tsubaki, the fire's not too much for you, is it?"

"Not at all, Black-Star. I barely even feel it."

Haruhi singed his arm with a blast of fire, and Black-Star winced internally. Too bad the same could not be said for him.

Haruhi smiled, went on the offensive, and began throwing precision blasts of fire his way, which he was forced to deflect away from himself. Haruhi, however, had no such concerns, as Tsubaki's only ranged weapons were Portals and the Shadow-Star, neither of which could be used simultaneously with the Enchanted Sword, and she used this to her advantage as she shot flames blocked from view by the twins until the very last second, at the ninja. Black-Star abruptly changed course and deflected the flames. While his guard was down, Haruhi knocked him down and put her foot on his chest, keeping him down.

"Shit..." Black-Star complained. "Just what to I need to do to put a dent in those scales?"

Haruhi grinned and her only response was to unleash a great gout of flames that engulfed the both of them.

"Woah," said Soul, looking a little uneasy.

When the flames dispersed, however, Black-Star was lying on the ground, completely untouched by the flames.

Tsubaki immediately transformed and checked to make sure Black-Star was okay. When she found him still breathing, she turned and bowed to their opponets. "Good match," she said.

Haruhi, for her part, wasted no time in exchanging compliments Tsubaki and the newly-transformed Hitachin twins. The two of them had made their way back to their own side and were preparing to leave when the Assassin spoke to them.

"How did you do that?" Black-Star was curious and apparently unfazed by having gotten curb-stomped by a Dragon.

Haruhi laughed. "Dragonfire obeys its master. How else did you think I kept these two idiots from being burned?" she said, nodding to the twins.

"And Tsubaki," commented Black-Star.

Haruhi ignored that. Instead, she made a comment of her own."If you really want to spar competitively with a Dragon, you're going to have to do something which goes against every natural instinct you possess. Are you sure it's worth the price?"

"Are there other dragons out there?" Black-Star wanted to know.

"Certainly," said Haruhi. "Not many, but they do exist."

"Then it would be hard to think of a price that would be too high." He took a breath. "What do I have to do?"

"To learn the answers you seek..." said Haruhi, her expression turning somber, as though she sympathized in the utmost with his future suffering, "...you're going to need to read a book."

He frowned. "You mean an evil soul-crushing book that devours the minds of those who read it?" he asked.

"No."

"Or a prison-book that traps you inside it forever like the Book of Eibon?"

"I'm afraid not," said the Dragon Witch.

Black-Star frowned. "Then what's the catch?"

"There is none," she admitted. "You need a book only because I'm not going to do your work for you. The strengths and weaknesses of Dragons are found in at least twenty different published books... the crux of the issue lies in actually having to track them down and read them. Tell me, Black-Star, is it in your nature to seek intellectual understanding rather than physical prowess?"

"Heh, not really," he agreed. "Okay, now I just need to find the right book... man, you're right. That sounds _boring_."

"Best of luck," said Haruhi, giving him a cheerful little wave as she made her way back to the clubroom. "Looking forward to our next fight."

* * *

Two days later: Aperture Science.

Clichés, Death the Kid had discovered, were everywhere for a reason. That reason being that the phenomenon of some turns of phrase being so overused in fiction, of course, was due simply to their corresponding situations being overused by reality.

'When it rains, it pours', for instance.

There were few other explanations for the fact that, not a week after his own existential crisis, he was faced with this—this _mess_.

Officially, they'd been trying out some wavelength-enhancing experiment of GLaDOS' of course: a human-only experiment, which was why he hadn't participated, preferring to attempt assassination of his father through the medium of their bi-weekly chess match.

When he'd casually dropped in to make sure his teammates hadn't blown up the facility, he'd been accosted by a hysterical pair of Demon Pistols.

"Kiiiiiid..." sobbed Liz.

"Kiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiid!" cried Patty. "We're so sorry for being such lousy weapons!"

"What... what are you talking about," he asked, staring at the two of them in alarm. What on earth could have brought this on?

"We didn't care about you when we agreed to be your weapons," sniffled Liz, "we were just trying to con you."

"We had no idea you were such a good person, and we were just going to use you and then throw you away..." continued Patty.

"There's... nothing to forgive?" said Kid uncertainly, completely out of his depth as to why it was suddenly 'closure-day'.

"Kid..." sobbed the both of them in unison, hanging onto his shoulders and breaking down completely.

"Where are the others?" he asked. "They should be able to help me talk some sense into y—oh god..."

The Kishin Killer and the Demon Scythe, though they hadn't broken down, both had trails of tears running down from their eyes, as they faced each other in mutual prostration, confessing their insecurities to each other like teenage girls at their first sleep-over.

"Maka," said Soul, his voice raspy with emotion, "I'm a horrible weapon. I'm only using you as an escape because you know nothing about the world of music..."

"Soul," said Maka, gazing at her weapon with infinite regret in her eyes, "I'm a worthless meister. I rely on you way too much instead of training myself..."

"...I take you for granted, and don't let you know how much you really mean to me..."

"...I care too much about my grades, and don't spend as much time on friendships as I should... especially with you, and you deserve so much more..."

Kid shook his head in, unsure what to make of their reciprocal angst-fest.

He turned his attention, resignedly, to the last two members of his team. If Maka and Soul hadn't been able to keep it together, then he honsetly didn't hold out much hope for the two ninjas, but you never knew...

Nevermind.

The two hugged each other tightly as they both sobbed their eyes out. The duo were obviously conversing, but Kid couldn't make heads or tails of it.

"Tsubaki!" said Black-Star, with sudden urgency

"Black-Star?" asked Tsubaki, in a heartbroken voice.

"Tsubaki?" said Black-Star, concerned by her sudden fragility.

"Black-Star—" began Tsubaki.

"Tsubaki," interrupted Black-Star, tightening their embrace in a gesture of comfort.

"Black-Star," said Tsubaki, a sad smile appearing on her face.

"Tsubaki..." Black-Star, almost laughing.

"Black-Star..." crooned Tsubaki.

… whatever. They were all still there, even if they might need to crank their metaphorical screws a few times to get back to normal.

"GLaDOS?" asked Kid, turning his eyes towards where heaven would be, if not obscured by the ceiling tiles of science.

"Shinigami?" asked the AI.

"Tell me," he asked, "do you see anything wrong with this picture?"

"Side effects of the Aperture Science Wavelength Enhancement Procedure may include: nausea, dizziness, limited wavelength compatibility, altered wavelength... and mood swings," she admitted.

Kid glared at the security camera in exasperation. "And...?" he said, obviously expecting some sort of apology.

"The experiment was successful," said GLaDOS, clearly pleased with herself.

* * *

After all they'd been through, Chrona and Ragnarok didn't have much of a heart for fighting. Sure, Ragnarok may have been antagonistic to the point of insanity, and Chrona may have felt even more at home on the battlefield than she did sitting in the corner, but they weren't exactly out to conquer the world or go gain eternal glory through combat.

Thus, though they'd enjoyed a week of cathartic antagonism during the Not Class camping trip, the black-blooded partnership was also happy to be getting back to civilization.

Or, at least, back to where they could harass people in the Time Wasters Society.

"Hey," said Ragnarok, glancing around for his favorite frienemies. "Why are there so many people missing?"

"Where's Maka's team?" echoed Chrona.

"The four weapons are undergoing Death Scythe specific training," Haruhi told them. "The wielders are off forging new Death Scythes in the FairyCat-verse."

"They'll be back once they're done," said Hani.

Chrona turned to Ragnarok. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

"If we have time to waste, why not stalk people?" suggested the Screaming Sword.

"... I was actually wondering what a Fairy-Cat would look like," admitted Chrona, "but there's a thought."

* * *

AN: Got the heartfelt-name-exchange-conversation idea from Estora's Twilight Fic, "Chagrin".


	41. Chapter 41

AN: Still in Flashback Hell, but I'm not sure if it's still Emo or not.

* * *

It was surprising how often people who constantly worked with Shinigami overlooked the obvious fact that they weren't (in fact) human. They may have looked the part, but they weren't. For one thing, death-gods saw the soul primarily, and the body was no more than clothing to them. And because the soul had no masculine or feminine character, they often had a hard time discerning gender.

Lord Death, with his many, many years of experience, was now nearly as good as a human, when it came to distinguishing gender. Death the Kid, after a few very embarrassing slip-ups had taken to discretely asking Maka, if he wasn't able to figure out a new acquaintance's gender identity after a few days. The scythe meister sympathized, as she too had soul-perception, and could, more or less, understand where he was coming from.

The Ohtori siblings of the Ouran Alliance, on the other hand, were unusual in their strong gender-radar (gen-dar?). Kyoya Ohtori had recognized Haruhi Fujioka as a female the first time he'd seen her, which was no small feat.

And Fuyumi?

She'd single-handedly started a Shinigami-civil-war, by marrying a human.

* * *

Before that, though, there was back-story. Kyoya Ohtori [Or as he was then known, "Prince of Darkness" (often shortened to "the Prince")] was the third son of the Death Emperor, and also his second backup heir: important, no doubt, but not terribly interesting.

At the physical age of three, he began working with the weapons his father had given to him, Takashi Morinozuka and Mitsukuni Haninozuka. The Prince had no problem treating them as his inferiors, even though they looked a year older than he was.

The Prince's brothers, Demon Regent and Heir of the Abyss, were supposed to help him learn to use his weapons, but they didn't want to train their future rival. They normally left him to his own devices, and the Prince's pride prevented him from going to his father.

Now, neither Hani nor Mori were able to match soul wavelengths with the Prince, and this frustrated him greatly. However, his three year old mind greatly wanted to be friends with his weapons, even if he understood, intellectually, that he couldn't do this. He couldn't stop himself from feeling the way he did, but it didn't change the fact that Haninozuka was terrified of him, and refused to even so much as transform in his presence. Mori, while he'd tried working with the Shinigami, was unable to match soul wavelengths with him.

The Prince had once asked the two of them whether they wished to be transferred to another meister; Hani had said no. ("Prince-sama's scary—but the other reapers are scarier!")

At this, the Prince was incredibly frustrated. He'd read that if natural resonance could not be achieved, then the best way was to break the spirit of your weapon. Then, the meister would be able to force a resonance-link. However, for reasons he wouldn't quite admit to himself, Prince didn't go that route.

And so, things remained as they were.

One day, at the Death Emperor's insistence, they sat in on a training session with the elder brothers... who refused to allow Prince to train. The two cousins saw first-hand how the other Shinigami treated their weapons—as though they were slaves—and afterwards the three talked.

Well... Hani and Prince talked. Mori just kind of stood there.

The boy's eyes filled with tears. "Prince-sama, I"m sorry I can't be your weapon. Takashi's sorry, too."

The young Shinigami regarded them with flat eyes. "At this point, it is of little consequence," he said. "After all, you're both still young."

"Sorry," repeated Hani, "Because of us, you can't have real weapons. You're our best friend ever for being so nice to us, Prince-sama, and we're sorry this is hurting you."

The Shinigami returned their grateful stares with frank indifference and sighed. "This isn't something you need concern yourself with," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "My goal is power," he said, "and creating Death Scythes is by no means the only route to that goal. Even if you never again assume your weapon forms, you're still useful to me: as the only people in the household loyal to me over my brothers and father."

The two of them were incredulous; they hadn't been expecting that.

"Not to mention," the Prince went on, "your families are quite influential in the human world, correct? That could be very useful in setting up contacts and such... but I digress. You two are both weapons. Have you tried matching soul-wavelengths with each other?"

The two cousins exchanged a glance. "A little," admitted Hani. "But we're supposed to be _your_ weapons—" his face showed guilt.

"An assassin is a weapon," said the Prince, "and so is a bodyguard. So long as I have those willing to help me achieve my goals, what does it matter whether you rest in my hands or your cousin's? Of course, we'll have to go out on Kishin-hunting missions together, to maintain appearances, but I'm well-able to take care of myself—"

He was cut off by a hug from the small weapon, to which he remained impassive, even if it was the first gesture of affection he'd received from anyone other than his sister. Mori placed a hand on his shoulder. "Thank you," he said. It didn't sound like much... except for the fact that this was the first time Morinozuka had spoken to him since their meeting.

* * *

And so, that was their pattern for the next three years: Hani and Mori partnered with each other. Hani was a kendo sword, Mori was a suit of armor. The Prince refined his abilities to extinguish life using his shadows.

And that was how they got their ten souls: five for Hani, five for Mori.

The Prince thought everything was fine. He realized that the two humans weren't yet emotionally mature enough to act beyond their own desires, and was willing to bide his time, leaving his two weapons largely alone in the interim.

Hani and Mori were fine with this... until they overheard something: the weapons of the elder brothers... making fun of their wielder.

"Hah, the Prince, what a joke."

"I hear he can't even resonate with his weapons."

"Weak."

"He'll never succeed his father, that's for sure."

The cousins gazed at each other in horror.

* * *

Later:

"Prince-chan, are you busy?"

"Not very," he answered, putting aside his notebook, which contained the plans he'd been working on for taking over a company in the human economic sphere.

"We want to try matching wavelengths again," said Hani. Mori nodded his agreement.

The Prince was mildly surprised by this, but he didn't show it in the slightest.

"Certainly," said the Shinigami.

A few minutes later, the three of them were in the training room, standing around rather awkwardly.

Unexpectedly, it was Mori who broke the silence. "I'll transform first," he said.

The Prince nodded. "Understood."

There was a flash of light, and suddenly, the Prince was wearing armor. Unlike previous attempts, however, it didn't feel too tight or too heavy.

"This is promising," remarked the Prince.

"Resonance-link," said Mori.

By which the death-god inferred that Mori wanted to try a resonance-link, so he initiated one. There was some dissonance, at least at first. The Shinigami's wavelength, after all, was dark in the extreme, and it was hard not to balk at the thought of matching wavelengths with something like that.

...but dark wasn't the same as evil. And, regardless of his uneasiness, there was no denying that the Prince of Darkness had treated them as allies and comrades. Even if Mori couldn't bring himself to trust the Prince, or like him, he did respect him. And that was enough.

Soul Resonance!

Darkness didn't say it, and neither did Mori, but there was no denying that it worked this time.

It was kind of terrifying. After working only with his cousin for so long, Mori hadn't at all been expecting the power levels of a Shinigami to be as high as they were, and here he was getting of live demonstration of all the reasons why weapons feared partnership with the death-gods. In the face of such overwhelming power, there was nothing they could do against it. If the Shinigami decided to crush them, their minds would shatter.

Intellectually, of course, Mori was nearly certain this wouldn't happen. Hadn't the Prince said that they were his weapons, whether or not they worked with him directly?

Still, the Prince sensed his uneasiness and backed off, and, seeing as they were still resonating Mori could vaguely hear some of his thoughts on the matter:

Most things in the Prince of Darkness' world could be obtained through some combination of force, money, and espionage; however, loyalty wasn't one of them. Much as it pained him to admit it, Hani's and Mori's loyalty to him was, at this point, a far more valuable asset to him than their abilities as weapons. Empires were ruled by power, yes, but if one had no trustworthy advisers, then that empire was doomed from the start.

So, Mori wanted to match wavelengths? Fine. Mori was uncomfortable with things and wanted him to back off? Also fine. These things had no bearing whatsoever on the central issue.

Mori saw all this, and he was surprised.

"Wow, Takashi! You did it! Can I try?"

Without a word, Morinozuka returned to his human form.

"Go ahead, Mitsukuni."

Hani took a breath, and assumed his weapon form. However, the Prince frowned as he looked down at the kendo sword, which was currently burning his hand.

"Perhaps this wasn't the best idea."

"No," said Hani, "I can do it. Let's try resonance."

The Shinigami shrugged, and attempted soul-resonance.

Hani was afraid as the tried to match his soul wavelength to Prince-chan's. He hadn't realized just how powerful he was... but then he remembered what he'd overheard and his resolve strengthened.

"Soul Resonance!" he said.

And it was scary, being that close to that much darkness, but, unequal as the distribution of power was, it was reciprocal. He could feel Prince-chan matching his level to keep the resonance even.

Just like Takashi always did.

Why had he been scared of Prince again?

A few minutes later, the three of them stood in a loose triangle, talking about the future.

"So," said Hani, "We can start training together after this, and going on more missions! And then Prince will be able to outshine his brothers and become heir!"

Mori nodded.

"Well," smirked the young death-god, still calculating out how far this would speed up his plans for world-conquest. "We'll see."

* * *

And thus, the Prince of Darkness, (or, as he had come to be known in human circles, "Kyoya Ohtori") set out to create Death Scythes of his very own.

It took him exactly two years.

That's right, by mental age eight, his weapons aged nine, the youngest of the death-god siblings had brought his weapons to the standard level of excellence, something which his brothers were still trying to do. Apparently, when you broke the will of your weapons, it made them less effective. Along with the fact that it was morally wrong.

Now, at this point, Takashi and Mitsukuni were putting more effort into their schoolwork, and into learning martial arts. They really enjoyed Kendo and Karate.

'Kyoya' was spending more time among humans than death-gods, at this point, and was kept busy building his financial empire. During this time, weapons and wielder saw little of each other.

Until:

"Kyo-kun?"

"Yes, Haninozuka?"

"Our brothers have joined the weapons' resistance."

"Chika Haninozuka and Satoshi Morinozuka?"

"Yes."

Ohtori made a few notes in his black book. "So then," he said. "Shall I hire spies to infiltrate the organization or do you two want to do it yourselves?"

"...you'd be fine with that?"

"You are human. Your first loyalty will always be to your family. I understand this."

"...We'll go ourselves."

"Contact me if you need help. Otherwise, I'll maintain communications blackout."

"One of us could stay here with you," Hani offered.

Kyoya shrugged. "While nothing is impossible, it's unlikely that one of you would be able to stand against anything dangerous enough to threaten me. You two are probably in more danger on your own mission."

"I... guess that makes sense," admitted Hani. "See you in a month or two, Kyo-chan."

* * *

When Kyoya Ohtori awoke, he found himself bound to a table with ropes he was unable to break.

"Ah, welcome to my lair, young Shinigami," said a thin Witch with long red hair.

Kyoya Ohtori decided that discretion was probably the better part of getting the hell out of Dodge and refrained from speech.

"I assume you're wondering why I've brought you here?" she asked, a coy smile on her face. "Well, my young friend, I know quite a lot about you. You're the third son, aren't you? Always overlooked. You want revenge for that, don't you? Well, don't worry. You'll soon be the only Shinigami left in existence, and you're the one who's going to make that happen. Doesn't that sound lovely?"

Little shall be said of what happened in the next hour, save that it was unpleasant.

Things seemed to have reached a stopping point, and the Witch was preparing a new spell to cast on him. As she spoke the incantation and magic engulfed him, however, it had no discernible effect. The Witch could tell something was wrong, and she let out a cry of rage, before listening to something in the distance. Cursing, she flipped the table he was strapped to upside down, put a cloth over it, and then set some objects haphazardly across the top. Kyoya was in a very uncomfortable position, and he could now only hear what was going on.

Then, she went to the middle of the room to wait for the intruders she had heard.

A great growling started up; soon a smooth voice laced with madness was heard. "Well now, Eclair. What are you doing?"

"I don't see how it's any of your business, Umehito," said the Witch who had captured him. 'Eclair'?

"The actions of one Witch in a coven speak for all, Eclair. We accepted you as kin, and how do you repay us? By bringing down the wrath of the gods upon our heads!"

"How did you find out?" asked Eclair.

"You should hide your plans better," said 'Umehito'. "Not five minutes ago, Haruhi was turning the lair upside down looking for a missing book, when we came across some interesting plans of yours, in the crawlspace."

Eclair didn't say anything.

"You're planning to turn a Shinigami into your own personal weapon?" said Umehito. "Do you even realize how dangerous that is? If you're caught, all of us die! Did you even think about your Coven at all? We're supposed to be a family, Eclair!"

"You're the ones who aren't thinking!" she said. "Refusing to accept what your magic has to offer you. Denying your own heritage!"

"My God, Umehito, she's fallen to the Sway!" hissed a low voice whose gender Kyoya couldn't identify.

"Eclair," the Umehito's voice became infused with pain. "Is this true?"

"Of course it's true!" snapped the Witch. "If you had any sense, you'd join me!"

"Fight it, Eclair." said a small girl's voice. "Please, don't leave us! We love you!"

"Stupid girl," said Eclair, "when you're older, you'll realize how ridiculous you sound."

"Eclair," said Umehito, "You have fallen to the Sway of Magic... but you remain our sister, still. In accordance with your wishes while you were still sane, we shall stop you from doing further harm."

"You wouldn't da—"

Suddenly, the air was rent with roars and growls of varying pitches. This went on for perhaps ten seconds before things fell into a silence, which was only broken by the sound of several people crying.

"Damn it! I really thought we were going to all make it!" said a voice Kyoya hadn't heard speak before then.

"We all thought so," said the low voice from before. Kyoya now thought it sounded female.

"Eclair," sobbed the voice of the child.

For a few minutes, things continued in this vein.

Then:

"Does anyone else smell a stranger?" asked the older girl's voice.

A pause while the others checked.

"Oh, God no..." said Umehito voice.

"Don't tell me she already—"

The cloth was removed from Kyoya's table, and the next thing he knew, he was staring into a pair of tear-streaked red eyes and found himself unable to move.

Slowly, the table was turned over. Kyoya could move his eyes, he could still breathe, and his heart still beat, but naught else was possible for him. He saw that the red eyes belonged to an adolescent, with redder hair and a face that would make small children cry. Next to him were two humans the same age and a little blonde girl who didn't look to be any older than seven. The other two were a cloaked guy with black hair and a frightening demeanor. The other was an androgynous person with brown hair and large eyes.

They cut the ropes binding him to the table, which allowed blood to flow back into his hands and feet, but he was still unable to move. Next, the hooded guy walked over to the side of the room, and came back with a first-aid kit. The four dressed his injuries, while talking amongst themselves.

"He used to be a Shinigami," said the androgynous brunette. "And he has the smell of a freshly-made weapon on him."

The hooded guy's expression twisted. "We're too late, then. She's already done it. She turned a Shinigami into a human weapon."

"Can we do anything about this?" asked the red-haired guy.

They both turned to the brunette. "The smell is strong enough that she must have performed the spell today, or yesterday at the earliest," she said. "The transformation does not become irreversible for a week."

"What must be done?" asked Umehito.

"There is no way to remove his ability to transform into a weapon," she admitted. "However, when she removed his Shinigami powers, Eclair transferred them into herself. If he consumes her soul sometime in the next week, he'll regain his powers as a death-god."

Umehito sighed. "What Eclair has made wrong, she shall again put right. The real Eclair would have been glad about that."

The blonde girl walked over to the middle of the room, where the dead body of Eclair lay, her soul floating above her. The small girl plucked it from the air and brought it over to the table, placing it in Kyoya's hand before breaking down into tears again.

For a moment, they stood there.

"Well, then," said the cloaked guy. "That's that. Ritsu, once we leave here, how long until he gains the ability to move?"

"For a normal human?" said the red-haired guy, 'Ritsu'. "An hour. For a used-to-be-Shinigami? Probably not more than five minutes."

"I suggest we run," said the brunette. She then transformed into a dragon and bade the others to get on. They did so, taking with them the body of the other Witch. The next moment, they were gone.

* * *

In fact, it was only three minutes later that Kyoya managed to shake off the paralysis. He was just considering his next move. Should he trust the word of these people? Could they have an ulterior motive? Was he in fact now nothing but a mere weapon?

He flexed his hand reflexively, only to have it shift into a gun barrel. Curiously, Kyoya shot a few rounds of his soul wavelength into the wall, and it was left riddled with holes.

So, it seemed they were telling the truth about that. He tried to summon his laptop or his notebook and found himself unable to. It also seemed they were correct about him losing his old powers.

What to do now?

If he went to his father and asked about this, he would be able to obtain a more complete answer.

Then again, there was also more chance of the crucial Witch's soul being lost or stolen if he delayed consuming it.

Knowing his brothers, they would leap at the chance to steal his powers and confine him to the life of a human.

And after all, he was a weapon now. Consuming souls made weapons stronger. It made sense.

Deciding to go for it, Kyoya slowly brought the soul to his mouth and swallowed it.

It was a gradual process which took a few minutes, but he could almost feel his old powers sliding back into place. Kyoya summoned his notebook to write some of these new revelations. His old powers really were back, then. He began to write down his thoughts. There was much that could be done with this new development, and, to the true chess-master, there were no misfortunes, only opportunities.

* * *

A few weeks later, Hani and Mori come back.

"Hi, Kyo-kun!"

Mori gave a small wave.

"How did it go?"

"We talked to our brothers, but they're staying where they are. How about you, Kyo-kun? Did you do anything fun?"

There was a pause. "I came into conflict with a Coven of Witches and gained a rather... strange ability. I may need your help in training it."

Hani's eyes widened. "Are you okay?"

"I'm uninjured, however, if my father or my brothers learn that I still have death-god powers, they'll make further attempts to have me assassinated, so I ask for your silence in this matter."

"You can count on us, Kyo-kun!"

"As for other news: I became a weapon."

"What?" asked Hani. "You mean like an assassin or a bodyguard—"

Ohtori shook his head.

"You mean... like us?"

There was a flash of light, and Kyoya Ohtori had vanished. In Hani's hands rested a terrifying sniper-rifle.

"Kyo-kun..." said Hani. Mori rested his hand on the gun's barrel, a shocked expression on his normally stoic face.

With another flash of light, Kyoya Ohtori stood before them, appearing unflappable as ever.

"I realize your schooling takes precedence at this point," he said, "but in the interest of not killing myself in my own stupidity, I'd like to train with your two, whenever possible. I've done many things, but I've never walked the road of a Death Scythe from a weapon's perspective before.

"Right. Don't worry, we'll help you!"

* * *

For Coven Nekozawa, things weren't looking so good.

It had started when they'd been declared enemies of the Council by the Head Witch, and was probably going to end in the Death Emperor's courtroom, where they now found themselves. The weapon-Shinigami, judging by his voice, was even there: presumably to testify against them and... wait, what was he saying?

"Father, this is the Coven that made an attempt on my life two months ago."

"Ah, is that so, Prince?" said the Death Emperor. "Well, then, I'll defer their judgment to you."

The Prince of Darkness regarded them with a cold stare. "The actions of your merry band of Witches," he began, "robbed me of my birthright and my freedom. I say an eye for an eye. The four of you shall serve me until such time as I declare your debt repaid," he smirked, before adding, "and don't think you can get out of this by dying."

* * *

Later:

"It didn't work," said Ritsu Kasanoda.

"Haruhi," said Umehito Nekozawa, "_why_ didn't it work?"

"It should have," said Haruhi, "I mean, unless he didn't eat Eclair's soul—but it's not like it would have been right for us to force-feed it to him. If that's true, then we really were responsible for the loss of his powers."

"This is going to be awful," said Umehito.

"There has to be some way to get Kirimi out of this, at least." said Haruhi. "Perhaps we could convince him that she had no knowledge of Eclair's actions? Kirimi-chan, do you think you could do the crying kitty-cat eyes? Those things could melt a glacier."

"I don't want to be alone!" protested Kirimi. "Besides, if I'm by myself, I can't fight the Sway!"

"Hmm... right," said Haruhi, "then there's only one way to do this: the siblings must go together. Ritsu?"

"Already ahead of you." he turned his eyes on Umehito, freezing him. Then, he and Haruhi took down his hood and removed his wig. Kasanoda removed his outer robe to reveal more casual clothes underneath, and threw the dark garment into the corner. Haruhi began fiddling with his hair, as Ritsu unfroze him.

"No...!" wailed Umehito, "The light—it burns!"

"Do it for Kirimi!" encouraged Haruhi. "Unless you can convince this former Shinigami that you and Kirimi has nothing to do with Eclair's plans, she will be at his mercy. Get ahold of yourself, Umehito!"

"Right," he said, "For Kirimi."

"So, what are you going to do when the former Shinigami comes in here?" asked Ritsu.

"I'm going to beg for forgiveness, and plead with him to let me and Kirimi go."

"And then you're going to throw us under a bus and say Ritsu, Eclair, and I planned the whole thing," added Haruhi.

"And then I'm going to—what? No!"

"Yeah, you are," said Ritsu. "And you're going to say you only went along with it because we threatened Kirimi to keep you in line, and then you're gonna start crying."

"I can't do this..."

"Yes you can, Umehito," said Haruhi. "Now, huddle in the corner with Kirimi and look pathetic."

"...actually," said a voice from the doorway, "There's no need for that."

A dark figure with glasses walked into the room. It was the former Shinigami.

"I heard the whole thing," he said.

* * *

"In that case," said Haruhi. She and Ritsu moved to stand in front of Umehito and Kirimi. Ritsu picked up his wig and robe and offered them back to him. The elder Nekozawa dropped them to the floor, and leveled pathos-inducing eyes instead at the intruder.

"We're sorry about what happened to you," said Umehito. "Truly, we are. But, please—my younger sister had nothing to do with it. She doesn't deserve this. The three of us will serve you for the rest of eternity, if you like, just please leave her out of this. We're begging you."

Kyoya Ohtori was silent a moment. "In all honesty, none of you deserve a fate such as that. I merely suggested it to keep up appearances. I bear you no ill will. Quite the opposite, in fact. There aren't many Shinigami out there who possess powers of a Demon Weapon, even if I do choose to keep that fact a secret."

"You do not wish people to know that you have weapon capabilities?" asked Haruhi.

"No, the opposite," he said, light flashing off his glasses. "As far as everyone outside this room knows, I am now nothing more than a human weapon."

"And you don't wish anyone else to know otherwise," said Umehito. "Are you going to kill us, then?"

Kyoya sighed. "That would be a nice way to repay my debt, wouldn't it?"

"Debt?" asked Ritsu.

"I owe to the four of you my life, my inborn powers, and my new powers. I'd say that constitutes material for a debt," said Kyoya Ohtori.

"Ah, besides sparing our lives, you don't have to do anything else for us," said Umehito. "After all, according to Witch culture, Eclair was part of our Coven. The actions of one Witch in a Coven—"

"Speak for all," finished Ohtori. "Yes, I do believe I heard something along those lines while I was strapped to the underside of a table. However, I do not recognize Witch culture as my own, and do you know what I saw that day? One person tried to kill me, and four others came and saved my life, and the lives of my family, by taking the life of their sister. Then, they healed me by gifting to me their sister's soul.

"You owe nothing to me. I declare your debt canceled. You may leave and do as you like. Or, if you'll accept it, I offer you my protection. Killing a fellow Witch can't have endeared you to the Council."

"That's true," said Nekozawa. "What do you think, siblings?"

"It makes sense to seek out power," said Haruhi."

"I don't know..." said Kirimi.

"This guy makes a nice offer," said Ritsu, "But how do we know we can trust him?"

"We don't," admitted Haruhi, "But we do know for certain that we can't trust anyone else."

"If you're masquerading as a human," said Umehito, "does that mean you're attending Ouran Academy?"

"Yes," said Kyoya, "They've got very good protection against the Witches Council there, and you've got a steel-plated excuse if you wish to attend there as well."

"We simply maintain that we are indebted to you," said Umehito with a nod. "Well, I suppose we could try it for week and then reevaluate. Any objections to a trial period?"

"None by me," said Ritsu.

"I'm fine with it," said Haruhi.

"Okay," said Kirimi.

"Right," said Umehito, "but we're only committing for a week—less if we don't like it there."

* * *

When Kyoya Ohtori was mentally sixteen, Fuyumi Ohtori announced that she was marrying one of her weapons and all hell broke loose.

She and her fiancé even went so far as to side with the Weapons Alliance. Surprisingly, Hani and Mori show up soon after that, with their completely normal human wielder, Kyoya Ohtori, in tow.

* * *

After three months, Kyoya was quite literally running the Ouran Alliance, so renamed because of the large influx of students from Ouran Academy. He was having a rather hard time maintaining supplies for the warriors, as there had been a trade embargo on their island for the past six months.

This was an issue which needed to be addressed; however, it took secondary importance to the fact that there was a Kishin loose in the world—the Ouran Asura—and his father wasn't doing jack-shit about it.

Using his mad skillz, Kyoya tracked him to the moon, dragged along Hani, Mori, Fuyumi, and Coven Nekozawa to deal with it.

After convincing the Hitachin Clown to side with them against its creator, they took out the Kishin, and proceeded to go on a search and destroy mission for any remaining madness monstrosities.

While doing this, Haruhi came across the stranded Wheatley and Space, both of whom had crash landed on the moon. They took them back to the Alliance, and through them, found their way to Aperture, where Kyoya Ohtori found an end to his trading problems: alternate universe travel.

Admittedly, first he had to duel with a still very homicidal GLaDOS in a battle of wits and wavelength that put the fear of god and the law into the AI, who had previously been running unregulated experiments to her heart's content... but even neurotoxin was worth cutting back on, if it meant more traffic through the Enrichment Center. GLaDOS could do civilized: after all, it didn't restrict your behavior at all, in the ways that were truly important to a scientist.


	42. Chapter 42

Betwixt the endless sandwich of blue sky and balmy sea, the Death Yacht cut its way unhurriedly through the waters of the Ouran Dimension.

At the prow of the ship, dressed in his normal outfit of mask and shadows, stood the captain. Or should that be the bow of the ship? He didn't really know, to be honest: he was a death-god, not a sailor.

The Death Scythes and Death Scythe meisters made up his crew, with Stein easily being the most laid-back of any of them. He'd spent most of his time fishing off the ship's side for new and unusual specimens to dissect. A close second would be Mifune, who had spent the past several hours observing the horizon in quiet contemplation: a state of mind which was broken, when he finally decided to approach the Shinigami.

"All right," said the Samurai. "I give up. What exactly are we doing?"

"Officially?" responded Lord Death. "We're going to go try and resolve things diplomatically with my Ouran-universe counterpart."

"Oh," he said, "Makes sense. Wait, 'officially'? Then what's the unofficial reason?"

"Well, Mifune, to tell the truth, I've always wanted to be a pirate."

"..."

"So," continued the Shinigami, "first thing's first, we all need pirate names. Dibs on 'Captain No Beard'."

Really? They were really doing this? Well, when employed by Rome...

"You're not going for 'Neptune'?" Mifune asked.

"No way," said Lord Death.

The Samurai nodded. "Then _I_ call Neptune."

"I shall be known as Siren," said Marie, donning a three-cornered hat to go with her eye-patch.

"You can't sing," Azusa pointed out.

"So?" returned the Demon Hammer.

"Azusa-chan," asked Lord Death, starting to get in on the action, "what about you?"

"My name is Yumi Azusa," said the Death Scythe, "and so shall it be until I die."

"Just for that, your name is now 'Kraken'," said Lord Death.

Azusa's expression became that of a woman doing her utmost to remain professional in the face of abject immaturity. "As you wish, Lord Death," she said.

"Captain No Beard," he corrected.

Azusa facepalmed.

"Why 'No Beard'?" asked Mifune. "If you don't have facial hair you could always go for Captain Hades, or something along those lines. Something that'll really strike terror into the hearts of your enemies..."

"Nah," said Lord Death, waving his hand airily in dismissal. He then proceeded to remove his oversized gloves. "I think I've got that part covered," he said, flexing skeletal fingers.

And not 'skeletal' as in 'thin': 'skeletal' as in 'bones with no skin'.

Did—did that mean that the rest of his body was—?

Lord Death took off his mask.

Yes, yes it did.

"Huh," said Mifune, right back in the mystical realm of 'what the hell is going on?'

"There aren't any kids around here to scare," the death-god pointed out, "so why not cut loose?"

Mifune looked thoughtful. "In that case, goodbye shirt." He removed said piece of clothing, accepting a bandanna from Marie, who seemed to be in charge of wardrobe, to tie around his head.

"... that's a lot of scar tissue," observed Stein, impressed.

Mifune shrugged. "Clothes impede movement, so the fewer the better. Besides, as you said, there aren't any children around here to scare."

"Speaking of," said Stein, "how do you think Kid and the others are handling things in our absence?"

"What, are you kidding?" asked Lord Death. "It's _Kid._ Ten to one he won't leave the Death Room the entire time, just to be sure he doesn't miss anything."

* * *

Wednesday:

Death Manor was normally a pristine and well-maintained specimen of a house—Kid wouldn't have stood for anything less. Down to the meticulously aligned picture frames and the perfectly folded toilet paper, it was a place where Kid could give way, in some small degree, to his desire to make his world a place of perfect order.

That's why it was so surprising to see it, now, in complete disarray.

Soul was the first to start stirring.

Thinking he was still in his own bed, he rolled over, falling down to the floor, coming face-to-face with Maka, who was asleep and drooling, with two claw-marks scratched across her cheek and a purple tutu around her waist. He also felt a sudden pain in his right hand.

What the—since when had he been _handcuffed _to_ Tsubaki_?

Apparently, the ninja had no more idea than he did. "Soul?" she asked, blinking into consciousness, startled by the movement. She frowned in confusion. "When did this happen?"

"Don't remember," he said. "You wouldn't happen to know what Maka did to piss off Blair, would you?" he said, indicating his injured meister.

"Oh, poor Maka. How did—Black-Star?!"

Soul was dragged across the room by Tsubaki in her haste to check on her partner. Once he got over the annoyance, though, even Soul had to admit that he was impressed.

He whistled in admiration. "Now _that_ is badass."

Black-Star lay sprawled over an armchair that looked as though it had recently been set on fire and then impaled with a pair of ninja swords. Probably due to the fact that the chair was still smoldering, and the swords were still there.

"Black Star?" asked Tsubaki, gently shaking his shoulder.

"Whaaaaa?"

"Black Star, do you remember what we did last night?"

"Geeehhhh..."

"I don't think he's coherent yet," said Soul, realizing that, unless they wanted this to turn into a day-long tug-of-war match, they'd have to cooperate and move in tandem. "Let's try Maka." Tsubaki nodded.

"A tutu?" said Tsubaki, taking a closer look at the downed Kishin-killer, who was drooling onto the floor beneath the glass coffee table.

"Maka?" said Soul, gently shaking her shoulder. When that didn't work, he shook it harder. "Hey, tiny-tits, wake up!"

"Maka—chop!"

"Ow," said Soul. Should have seen that one coming. Wait, why was she Maka-chopping him with a first edition of Ulysses?

"Did we throw a wild party?" asked Maka, seeming more surprised by the book in her hand than by the ballerina getup.

"It seems like a possibility " said Tsubaki. "but I'm not hungover or anything... so why don't I remember anything since Monday when my phone clearly tells me that it's Wednesday?" she held up the device so that they could confirm the date with their own eyes.

Maka frowned, glancing around the room as she thought. She didn't get very far before being brought up short. "Are those chickens?"

Soul snorted. "Of course n—holy hell, Kid's going to pitch a fit when he sees this."

"Kid's not here?" asked Tsubaki. "We're in his house, right?"

"... I found the others" said Maka.

"That's a triangle," observed Soul, looking at the three unconscious forms of Kid, Liz, and Patty, which were, indeed, laid out head to feet, in triangular formation.

"An equilateral triangle," added Maka.

"Guys, wake up!" yelled Soul.

Liz yawned, stretching her arms straight up and then arching down to shape a half-circle. "Kid," she complained, "normal people need eight hours of sleep. Not six, not seven-and-a-half, eight. At minimum. I don't care which movie you want to go see..."

The younger sister on the other hand, was awake instantly. "My giraffe senses are tingling!" Patty said. She sat up, glanced at the window, and was off like a shot.

"Is that... a giraffe?" said Kid, blinking at the sight before him.

"Yes," said Liz.

"In our backyard," he said.

"Looks like it," agreed Liz.

"I remember none of this," said Kid.

"Damn," said Maka. "We were hoping that at least one of us would. Well, that leaves..."

"Black Star, what did you do?!" roared the five.

"Grfrysf," the ninja fell out of the chair and finally woke up.

"Woah," he said. "What did we _do_ last night?"

Soul sighed. "Well, that's seven for seven."

Black-Star scratched his head, then realized he was holding something in his hand. "Hey, guys? What's this?"

Closer inspection revealed the pen-like device clutched in his hand was labeled "Aperture Science Handheld Inhibition Remover and Memory Modification Device."

* * *

"Okay," said Soul, "So, whatever we did, science made us do it."

"I'm gonna go chew out GLaDOS," said Tsubaki, snatching up the pen and portaling into Aperture Science.

"I'm gonna check the news," said Maka. "Odds are, that giraffe does not belong to us..."

"Well," said Kid. "This is all right, I suppose. At least we get to go on a fanciful detective adventure, piecing together our antics from the previous day and a half, in an ultimately edifying journey towards self-discovery."

* * *

Two hours later, the seven showed up at the Death City Police Department.

"Would you like to report a crime?" asked the officer on duty, Detective Shaw.

"We're... not exactly sure," said Kid. "My colleagues and I possess no memories of the past two days, though circumstantial evidence suggests we may have stolen a giraffe, and a few other items of importance."

"That was _you_?" asked Shaw. This was unusual. Though they were violent as all get-out, they'd had very little trouble with the DWMA students in the past: especially Lord Death's son.

"Maybe?" said Kid. "When we woke up this morning, the giraffe was in my backyard, and various other items were in my living room. Those should probably get back to their rightful owners."

Suspicious, thought Shaw. "When exactly did you wake up?"

"Two hours ago, more or less," answered the Shinigami. "We've been trying to piece together what happened from news articles, internet history, and the sent text messages from our phones... but I still have no idea _what _we did yesterday, let alone _why_ we did it."

"We found an experimental memory-wipe device in the room," said Maka, handing it over. "But I honestly can't think of a reason why we would have used it on ourselves."

"It's out of character," agreed Tsubaki.

"So," said Patty, as all eyes turned to the detective. "We were hoping that maybe you guys could help us?"

* * *

Six hours later:

"This," said the detective, "was the single most convoluted, irritatingly complicated, and downright _strange_ investigation I've ever conducted..."

The seven kids flinched.

"... but you showed real character in coming forward. So long as this doesn't happen again, and reparations are made, the owners of the various objects stolen and properties damaged aren't going to press charges."

Maka sighed in relief. Having a criminal record would not look good on her resume.

Shaw's expression lost just a bit of its edge. Yeah, the law was sacred and had to be upheld... but he now had blackmail on the future ruler of Death City. "Try not to throw anymore wild science parties, alright?" he told them.

"Once was enough," Kid agreed. "Just out of curiosity, why exactly did we do on Tuesday?"

Should he? Maybe not, but it was just too damn funny not to show them. Detective Shaw dropped a folder onto the table. "Here's a copy of the report."

* * *

Monday:

As far as Rachel North was concerned, everything had started to go to hell the day she'd decided to pet that stray dog.

She was later told that she'd been possessed by the Snake Witch, Medusa, and then saved several weeks later by a couple of kids from the local child army, the DWMA. And, sure, it seemed plausible, though she admittedly remembered none of it. That was all well and good, and Rachel saw no reason to distrust them.

It was what happened afterwards that bothered her. Her parents had always been somewhat overprotective, with her mother always carrying a bottle of hand-sanitizer and her father concerned about the moral state of today's youth. And, after she'd come back, they'd added magic to their blacklist.

The Harry Potter books were banned from the house, they no longer celebrated Halloween, and Rachel was forbidden from talking to anyone any of the local Witches, DWMA or otherwise.

Still, it wasn't like Rachel could blame them, exactly. Child abduction was a pretty valid source of adult-fear. But, sometimes, she just wished they'd let the whole thing go, and move on with their lives. That they'd trust her to make the right decisions and look out for her own welfare.

It didn't seem very likely. Especially not if they ever found out that she was now a Witch.

Whether it had been brought on by exposure to Medusa's wavelength or it was something that would have happened naturally, it was impossible to deny that Rachel North was now a budding young practitioner of the black arts.

The Elephant Witch to be exact.

She hadn't told anyone, of course.

She knew it probably wasn't normal, to learn you were a Witch when you started puberty. From what she could dig up on the net, most kids knew when they were four to five years old.

She'd done alright for herself. She'd practiced stabilizing her newly-developed madness wavelength under controlled conditions, as well as exercising and developing her powers to the best of her ability (she wasn't really sure what her specialization was yet). She'd been able to balance her human and magical life with some degree of ease. She refused all messengers asking her to join the Witch Council, though she also rebuffed an offer to join Coven Nekozawa. She realized that she was a Witch... but she wanted to live her life as a human.

However, one day her mother caught her looking up information on Witches, and it started off a gigantic fight.

Rachel had her first nervous breakdown after that, and, when she regained control over herself, discovered she'd done a few things which she now regretted.

Enter Death the Kid.

* * *

Still Monday:

"Hello, Rachel," said Kid, settling himself to sit beside her at the edge of one of the canyons near the city.

"Death the Kid," returned North.

"Are you all right?" he said. "I sensed something... off."

Though she had mastered Soul Protect, Maka Albarn and Death the Kid had both been around when Rachel had first started flaring in her powers. She could only assume they were the ones who'd told Lord Death and Coven Nekozawa, though both parties had thus far left her alone.

Rachel sighed. "I got into a fight with my mother," she admitted. "It... sent me over the edge for a while there."

Kid nodded, surveying the damage.

"Swords?" he asked, eyeing the two Ninja swords, one clutched in each of her hands.

"Tusks," she answered.

Kid furrowed his brow in confusion, but continued nevertheless. "A giraffe?" he said, glancing at the ungulate wandering the desert near them, probably searching for trees with leaves it could eat.

"A friend," she said.

Kid simply turned the full force of his 'I have no idea what's going on here' expression on her, until she decided to explain herself.

Rachel sighed. "I'm not just a Witch," she said, "I'm the _Elephant_ Witch."

"Ah, dawn breaks," said Kid. "Well, if this was a nervous breakdown, then I suppose congratulations are in order for self-control, Rachel. No reports of assault or murder have come in, and the thefts were done so smoothly that they haven't even been noticed yet."

"Thanks," she said, looking less than pleased.

"You look unhappy," said Kid.

"I mean—" she started. "I know it could have been a million times worse, and I know nobody's perfect. But it's just going to be so humiliating. I'm going to be _that girl_, the psycho-theif Kishin-bait. And if I defend myself? Antagonistic."

"Rachel—"

"It's not the end of the world," she said, "I'll get through it, it's just—"

"Hard," he finished.

"Yeah," she agreed.

They sat there a moment, in sympathetic silence.

"May I show you something?" asked Kid.

"What is it?" asked Rachel.

"One of the marvels of Modern Science," answered the Shinigami, morphing his arm into a portal-gun and opening a blue portal on the ground.

* * *

Still Monday:

It led into a building that wouldn't have looked out of place in a science fiction movie.

"Welcome to the Enrichment Center," said a voice.

"Enrichment Center?" she asked.

"GLaDOS?" said Kid, "This is Rachel North, Elephant Witch."

Hmm. Must be someone in authority, if he was giving out that kind of info.

"Did you know," said GLaDOS "That Aperture Science founder Cave Johnson was a Witch? It's true. It seems like only yesterday I lured him into a vat of liquid nitrogen with the promise of cake. That was one of my better ideas. Don't you agree?"

"Uh..." said Rachel.

"Ignore the death threats," said Kid. "She's just joking. Right?"

"Ha. Ha. Ha," said GLaDOS, in a manner most unconvincing.

"Point is," said Kid, "You couldn't kill GLaDOS if you tried. And, believe me, a lot of people have tried."

"What does this have to do with me?" asked Rachel.

"She's a scientist. And an immortal. If it exists, she's interested in studying it. These rooms are all equipped with sensing equipment of all spectra and variety. Whatever goes on in Aperture adds to her information stores."

"Again. Relevance to my situation?"

"If you ever need some place to blow off steam, you can come here," he said. "You've got everything you could want in a training ground, obstacle courses, turrets, and everyone here's extremely tolerant of madness wavelength. You get to train in privacy, GLaDOS gets information on the wavelength readings of a developing Witch. It's win-win... if you're interested that is."

Interesting. It probably beat the pants off training in her garage and breaking into the school weight-room in the dead of night.

"Hmm. Well, I'm not 100%..." she said, playing it cool.

"That's understandable," said Kid, amiable to the last.

"... but for the time being, is there any way I could get one of those portal things in my room?"

Kid grinned.

"I'll work something out with GLaDOS," he assured her. "I've been meaning to talk to her anyway. I'll see what I can do about smoothing over today's incidents, as they're uncovered."

She nodded in thanks.

"Oh, and Rachel?" said Kid, "One more thing..."

* * *

Wednesday:

Well, with a name like 'Time Wasters Society', it was bound to happen one day... and that day just happened to be today.

Karaoke party.

Ritsu Kasanoda held the stage. He was about two-thirds of the way through a sixties power-ballad, singing his heart out:

"_I will have the things that I desire_

_my passion flow like rivers through the sky..."_

GLaDOS sat a table on the periphery of the action. She was playing the role of music-critic for her captive audience of #558. She was less than surprised when Rachel North dropped into the empty seat next to her. Though they'd known each other less than two days, they got along better than most people who went through the Enrichment Center, and this was as good a place as any for casual conversation.

"Wow," Rachel said, deciding to make small-talk, glancing at the Basilisk Witch. "That guy puts a lot of feeling into his singing... but what's the song actually about?"

"It's a love song," said #558.

"I thought it was about cake," said Rachel.

"The cake is a metaphor," said GLaDOS, as though it were obvious.

"Is that so?"

Once his song was finished, Kasanoda left the stage. He briefly made eye-contact with Rachel, but didn't hold it, respecting the fact that she wanted to be viewed as a human, and not a Coven sister.

GLaDOS stood. "A word of advice," she said, "Keep your cards close to your chest, and hang out with death-god and his cohorts, once they get here."

"Why?" asked Rachel, immediately suspicious. After all, it had been nearly two days, and she still hadn't heard back from Kid about the... incident on Monday. There hadn't been anything in the papers, for which she was grateful, but she did want to have some idea of what to expect in terms of fallout.

"The death-god gave me a message to convey from himself and his team: 'don't worry, we'll take care of everything'."

GLaDOS then took the stage and began a new number.

"Everything?" wondered Rachel.

"_This was a triumph..."_

"What does that mean 'everything'?"

"_...I'm making a note here: Huge Success..."_

At that moment, the door was kicked in by The Great Black Star.

"All right," he said to the room in general, throwing a folder onto the nearest table. "Gather round, kids. It's story-time!"'

Hikaru and Kaoru were immediately interested. "What is it?"

"I have absolutely no idea!" said the Assassin. Next to him, Maka and Kid shrugged. "We wanted other people around when we first looked at it."

Kaoru flipped through the pages. "This is a police report."

Hani's eyes were wide. "You guys did something illegal?"

Kid shrugged. "Apparently." He added a gutted device to the pile.

Tamaki examined the label. "Aperture Science Handheld Inhibition Reduction and Memory Modification Device?"

"Oh man," said Hikaru, "this is gonna be gold."

Even Mori looked interested.

"Hang on," said Blair. "_This_ is why you guys were acting all loopy?"

"Probably," said Kid. "I'm just glad father wasn't around to see it... where is father by the way?"

"You don't remember?" asked Belzenef.

"Memory modifications," said Soul, tapping the side of his head.

"Oh," said Blair, "well, after Coven Nekozawa unbound his soul from Death City, he decided to go on vacation and took the rest of the Death Scythes with him."

Kid blinked. "You mean father goes out of town and the first thing we do is get arrested?"

Hani shrugged. "Don't sound so shocked, it was your own doing."

"Damn," complained Kid. "Well, at least they're not pressing charges. There are advantages to coming forward of your own accord."

"You didn't go on the lam?" asked Kaoru. "Wimps."

"You stole a giraffe," said Haruhi, holding up one of the papers, looking mildly impressed.

"Is that where that came from?" asked Liz. "It was in the backyard when we woke up..."

"You stole. A giraffe," she repeated.

"Who wouldn't want to steal a giraffe?" said Patty.

"And two antique swords from Death City Museum," added Kasanoda.

Tsubaki shrugged. "Every ninja needs at least one."

"And a collection of rare books," said Haruhi.

"Almost certainly Maka," said Soul.

"And a coop full of chickens," said Kaoru.

"Yeah," said Kid. "that honestly could have been anybody..."'

* * *

Rachel turned to GLaDOS in confusion "But they didn't—" she started.

"I have no idea what they did or didn't do," said the AI. "They simply asked me for a device that erased memory, and I gave it to them."

"I didn't ask them to go this far," said Rachel, more confused than she was anything else. "They didn't have to... why would they take the blame for something that's my fault?"

Ever so subtly, GLaDOS gritted her teeth. "Because they're evil."

Rachel blinked. "Come again?"

"Every time they gift you with blind trust," said the AI, her tone one of irritation, "every time they take it for granted that the turrets are loaded with rubber bullets or that I'm not sending them to a dimension with a methane atmosphere... it gets that much harder kill them, whenever the opportunity does present itself. That's the problem with humans, they have to contaminate everything..."

Rachel kept a straight face. "I take it you have some personal experience in the matter?"

"... you could say that. They're doing the same thing to you, now, you know. Even if it were for your own personal advancement, do you think you'd be able to just toss them aside like yesterday's humanity, after what they've done to you?"

"You mean 'for me'?"

GLaDOS just stared at her, not about to be sidetracked.

Rachel thought about it. "Greater respect hath no man than this:" she said, "that he trash his reputation for his friends. No, whatever happens after this, it'd be very hard for me to betray them... they wiped out two days of memories for me, and made a huge spectacle of themselves, just so I wouldn't have to out myself as a Witch. That says something." She allowed herself a small smile. "And this method works in other cases?"

GLaDOS sighed. "I haven't managed to kill them yet," she said. "So I can only assume so, yes."

"We did what to the Death City Ballet Company!?" cried Maka in disbelief.

* * *

AN: Thus ends the Spring Break Writing Party.

I'm getting better at catching typos (hooray!), but I'm also starting to notice other things about the fic that need fixing. For now, though, I'm still trying to finish Snowstorm before I go back and make it better.

Gonna graduate in a few months, so I need to find a job and stuff, and that'll probably make my schedule even more sporadic than it already is. To be blunt, it might be a few months between updates from here on out.


	43. Chapter 43

"Maka!" called a familiar voice.

"Chrona?" asked Maka, turning to confirm her suspicions. Just as she'd thought, both Chrona and Ragnarok approached their party.

"What are you doing here?" asked Black-Star, giving them a blank stare.

"Wasting time," replied Chrona.

"Obviously," added Ragnarok.

"No, I mean... the society's back in the Ouran-verse," Maka said. Currently, they were all in a park in a metropolis of the fairy-cat verse. They weren't able to fit into many of the buildings of this world, and, for the most part, had to content themselves with seeing the great outdoors.

"Says who?" asked Ragnarok. "Not that long ago, it was in our dimension. Why should it be tied down to any one place?"

"Point," admitted Kid, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"So," began Soul, in a dry tone, "that would be why everyone else is here as well?"

Zoom out to show Angela talking animatedly with one of the fairies, Kirimi reading aloud for a rapt audience of six kittens, Mifune lounging with Coven Nekozawa, making sure the two kids didn't get into (much) trouble. Hani and Mori sparred with Hikaru and Kaoru. Tamaki tried to organize an expedition to the main square. Blair, Belzenef, Sapphire, Silver, Tsugumi, Anya, and Meme, and Night Core were considering joining. Marcus and Hero watched the Hitachins' fight. GLaDOS, and her self-titled 'apprentice' Rachel North, were sightseeing.

"Of course," said Chrona, taking her eyes off the others and returning them to the conversation.

The Screaming Sword observed their apparent boredom. "You don't seem busy," said Ragnarok. "Why not join us?"

"Perhaps later," said Kid, "We're actually looking for a pre-Kishin, at the moment."

"If you see any guys with dark blue hair, they may try to kill you telekinetically," added Maka. She then considered just who it was she was warning and added, "Not that he'd have any luck against black blood, but still: be careful."

"Where are these so-called new weapons you were supposed to be working with?" asked Ragnarok.

"...we don't exactly know," admitted Kid.

* * *

Legato Bluesummers sat in a clearing and he was quite enjoying himself, until he was assaulted from the side by a taser. While he was recovering from the paralysis, and attempting to regain the focus needed for a mental counter-strike, he was sprayed in the eyes with a can of mace.

After stumbling around in a daze, Bluesummers was then trampled by a what felt like a horse (but was, in fact, a unicorn), whacked in the chest with a baton and a boomerang, sliced across the neck by a razor-fan, and finally struck by a bolt of dark energy.

After this, all attacks ceased, and the minds who had attacked him retreated to a distance outside his range, though this was of little relief to him as, ten minutes later, he'd dropped dead of blood loss.

After Bluesummers had been dead for a good twenty minutes, the assassins returned to collect his soul.

Not 'souls' but 'soul' as in singular. Because he was a human and not a Cat, no matter how much, deep down in his heart, he may have wished otherwise.

* * *

"Hey."

Black-Star looked up. Seeing that the seven awol weapons had returned.

"Look who decided to show up," he said, obviously annoyed.

"We took out Bluesummers," said Kanako.

"How?" asked Maka, surprised. "He nearly killed us, and we've fought tougher opponents."

"Well, he surprised you, didn't he?" returned Reiko. "Everyone's vulnerable to a sneak-attack, and we simply managed to get the drop on him."

"Really?" asked Kid, curious.

"We got in close," began Royce, "and Laura blinded him. The rest was easy because, while he may have been using his telepathy to estimate where we were, he'd clearly never trained to use his mental powers in place of his sight."

"Renge ate his soul," continued Rebecca. "Combined with the six Cat Kishin souls she ate earlier, we think that should be enough to bring her up to Death Scythe," she turned to the death-god. "Do you still have the Witch soul?"

"Right here," said Kid, retrieving the glowing orb from where he'd kept it in limbo, handing it off to Renge.

… and after the Death Scythe power rush died down, it was back to business as usual.

"One down, six to go!" said Maka.

The seven weapons suddenly revealed uncomfortable expressions.

"Yeah, about that..." said Renge.

"What is it?" asked Kid, suspiciously.

"We'd kind of feel more comfortable... working by ourselves," said Renge, obviously realizing that this was, more or less, biting the hands that had fed them.

The three wielders considered this. They were somewhat disappointed, but did their best to hide it.

Kid sighed. "Fair enough," he said.

"You might want to talk with Justin Law, or maybe Soul," added Maka, determined to remain professional and helpful, despite the feeling that she'd just been slighted. "They're the only weapons we know who've created Death Scythes without full-time meisters. Come to think of it, Hani and Mori might also have advice."

"It's not anything you did," said Royce, attempting diplomacy. "We just feel that this is the best way to build our skills. The difference in experience between us as weapons and you as wielders is too simply great for us to make an effective fighting-unit together."

The three meisters nodded. That made them feel a bit better about things.

"We also wanted to thank you," said Kanako. "If it weren't for you, we wouldn't even be powerful enough to go it alone."

They all looked rather nervous.

Kid smiled weakly, breaking the tension. "You don't have to worry about our feelings," he said. "We're quite secure."

"Now," continued Maka, "even if you're 'going it alone', you'll need a support network. Care to come meet the rest of the society?"

* * *

After brief introductions, Maka, Black-Star, and Kid had gone off to chat with their weapons. They were out of earshot, but still clearly visible to Royce Carthage, as he made small talk with Hero Swordson.

"The three lunatics are wielders in your organization?" Royce asked, a glance in their direction

"Yes indeedy," answered Hero. "Why?"

Royce considered his words carefully. "You are not... like them," he said.

"No," agreed Hero easily. "We're Not Class: the sane ones."

Royce didn't comment.

"Speaking of which," continued Hero. "I don't suppose working with them has helped change your perspective on wielders?"

"Um..." Said Royce, not certain exactly what the other guy was looking for.

Or at least with Shinigami?" said Hero.

"Indeed," Royce said, catching on to what Hero was getting at. "Before working with those three, it was my goal to kill all death-gods quickly and efficiently," he told the Scythe-verse wielder, not caring overmuch if the guy was offended. In Ouran, it was a well-accepted fact that death-gods were blights on the universe, something he'd never even thought to question before working together on the same team with one.

"And you don't want to do that anymore?" asked Hero, allowing some small measure of hope to show in his voice.

"No," agreed Royce. "Now I want to kill all Shinigami slowly and painfully."

Hero's face went blank for a moment, as he took in the Ouran weapon's words. Well, on the whole, that wasn't an altogether uncommon reaction upon facing Kid's symmetry obsession, even if it was a little on the extreme side—

"—but," Royce, glancing at Kid, who had now apparently decided it was time to start singing, "he is not most Shinigami, he is... strange."

Hero chuckled. "That's an understatement."

* * *

"Why is Death the Kid singing 99 Luftballons?" asked Laura Saunders.

"Well," replied Marcus Law, "we decided it would add some measure of ceremony to the Society to occasionally sing national anthems. It's Kid's turn, and the country of the day is Germany."

"I'm pretty sure that Nena did not compose the national anthem of any country on god's green Earth," commented Rebecca Ingold, staring in fascination as the Shinigami sang along with Night Core's cheerful accompaniment with a completely serious expression on his face.

Marcus grinned. "Kid doesn't know that."

* * *

Tamaki smiled benevolently at Kanako and Renge. "...and according to Hikaru and Kaoru," he told his audience, "while he is fluent in more than half the languages of Earth, Death the Kid has gone out of his way on several occasions to avoid learning German," he said, finishing up his explanation.

Kid finished the 'anthem', to wild applause from his teammates, who spoke even less German than he did.

Mei and Reiko joined the three, fresh from listening to the performance, automatically gravitating towards the nearest 'host'.

For those in the Ouran Alliance, at least, the Society remained very much a host club, albeit, one with its focus on bringing as many weapons up to Death Scythe level as possible.

* * *

Tsubaki Nakatsukasa was a nice person. She was kind, thoughtful, and extremely considerate of other's feelings.

But Tsubaki Nakatsukasa was also a ninja.

Compassionate, and soft as the flower petals of her namesake, but also cutting and deadly, when the occasion called for it. This showed somewhat in her sense of humor, and did so especially as she offered an explanation to Maka and Black-Star and Kid as to why they were, once again, on the outside of the Death Scythe ambition.

"Cheer up," she said. "It's not like you're completely blameless in the whole matter."

"We were supposed to create _seven_ Death Scythes," said Kid, who was now back to speaking with his group, none the wiser about being the victim of the Society's latest prank, "and we didn't even get to _one _before they stopped working with us. It seems rather damning evidence to me."

"But each of them has eaten at least one Kishin soul by now," said Tsubaki. "That's far more than enough to get them standing on their feet and to smooth the whole ordeal into a nicely manageable process."

"So, the instant they didn't need us, they dropped us," said Maka. "We're the meisters of last resort."

Tsubaki hesitated. "No... I'd actually view you more as enablers."

"As what now?" asked Black-Star.

"Well, to put in similar terms, it's not like you're drug dealers yourselves, but you three do encourage substance abuse in the people around you. Or, rather, reckless ambition. If left to their own devices, those seven never would have gotten this far, but now that they're addicted, you're no longer a necessary factor."

"...you're saying that we're Death Scythe enablers?"

"That's about how I'd put it, yes."

The three of them turned that over in their minds, viewing it from multiple angles before Maka decided to respond.

"I can live with that," she said.

* * *

Blair and Belzenef, as far as the Ouran Alliance was concerned, were very much birds of a feather. The fangirls loved them, both: at least, they loved them until they transformed. Belzenef, being the anti-socialite that he was, had informed everyone that he was a vampire bat. And Blair usually went about in her human form, seeing as it inspired jealousy rather than glomping.

There was, admittedly, some chemistry between the two, of course, since they were the only two members of their species in the Alliance, but it was often overstated by rabid shippers.

Then again, somewhere there's smoke, there may very well be fire.

* * *

That evening, after Angela and Kirimi had finished watching The Blair Witch Project, they decided to imitate television and make their own nighttime woods documentary.

Making sure to bring the two Cats along, of course.

Belzenef, by virtue of his grumpiness, was the designated 'evil Cat' and Blair the good Cat by default.

As they sat around their makeshift campfire, Blair, in her own fashion, provided narration for the story:

_"The sun had long set,_

_it was too dark to fight_

_so we sat in the woods_

_all that cold, cold, dark night._

_I sat there with Angie_

_we sat there, we two_

_and I said, "how I wish_

_we had something to do!'_

_too wet to watch stars_

_too cold to go brawl_

_so we sat 'round the fire_

_we did nothing at all._

_So all we could do was to_

_Sit!_

_ Sit!_

_ Sit!_

_ Sit!_

_and we did not like it_

_not one little bit_

_And then something went "bump"_

_How that 'bump' made us jump_

_we looked_

_then we saw him slink in like a rat._

_We looked!_

_And we saw him!_

_The Cat who's a Bat!"_

"... Blair, what are you doing?" asked Belzenef.

"I'm thinking of writing a children's book," said Blair.

"I am the Cat of Chiroptera," he informed her. "I would appreciate being referred to as such."

"Yeah, you keep saying that," said Kirimi, "but what does χ-ROFL-copter even mean?"

He sighed. "It's a mammalian order of which bats are a..." he trailed off, seeing his words weren't getting through to her. "It means bat," he said, "but Blair has a harder time remembering it, and it's much harder to find a rhyme for or put into song."

* * *

AN: Sadly, no writing parties until I find a job, but here's a celebratory chapter to commemorate graduation.

At this point, we're nearing the final battle, and by that I mean that it's probably more than five chapters away but also probably less than ten.

Also, I've been re-reading the older chapters and realized that, at this point, Snowstorm has probably been a lot more fun for me to write than it has been for you guys to read. I'll try to work on that, in the long term.


	44. Chapter 44

In the ten thousand years since his creation, the humans had created many legends about the Shinigami known as Lord Death. He was the Grim Reaper, Evil Incarnate, as well as the Angel of Death, among many others.

Over the millennia, he'd come to accept the fact that his would always be a persona of darkness and fear. He consoled himself further with the observation that, at least, Death was occasionally seen as a comforting figure in myths and legends. He could live with his reputation, all things considered.

But that didn't mean he was happy with it.

Didn't mean that he wouldn't change it, if such a feat were within his power.

Or that he wouldn't do things differently, if presented with a conveniently blank slate.

* * *

"When exactly did we start being Ninja?"

Mifune again, Lord Death noted, as he stood tall behind the wheel of the Death Yacht. No doubt, the Samurai had spotted Tezca's latest wardrobe. Personally, Lord Death suspected that Mifune's annoyance was due as much to the fact that the swordsman had started to like being part of a pirate crew as much as to the ethical and practical divide between Ninja and Samurai.

"This morning," Lord Death answered.

"Does this mean what I think it means?"asked Azusa, making notes in the ship's log.

"...are you thinking that it means that we're ninja pirates?" asked Lord Death.

"I was," she admitted.

"Then, yes. Yes, it does," he agreed.

"Captain," said Justin, "we're approaching the enemy now."

"All hands to battlestations" he commanded. "Set phasers to stun."

"... and now we're trekkies?" said Mifune, raising an eyebrow.

"Aye aye, Captain," said Tsar Pushka.

"Sir," said Azusa, "you are aware that we're outnumbered twenty to one?"

"Why no, lieutenant, I wasn't." Began Lord Death. He put a hand to his chin. "You do realize, if course, what this means?"

"We'll have to divide our forces," answered Azusa, nodding, "to face them on multiple fronts and—"

"Everyone gets their own ship!" crowed Lord Death.

"... Ah, yes," Azusa said, adjusting her glasses. "I suppose they will." On that note, she turned to address the rest of the crew. "All hands, prepare to board enemy vessels. Do not, repeat, do NOT cause unnecessary damage to the ships. We'll be commandeering them."

And their ship sailed on, right into the waiting lines of the blockade.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the Death Scythe verse:

Seven figures made their way, casually and with all possible subtlety, out of the movie theater that they'd just been visiting. They were all hoping, somewhat foolishly, that no one would notice all the rubble they'd left in their wake.

"Okay," said Maka, when they'd made it a few blocks away, "just whose bright idea was it to go see a movie, anyway?"

Six fingers pointed straight back to the Kishin-killer.

"Oh," she said. She attempted to regroup and attack from another angle "well, then whose idea was it to try and take out the pre-Kishin in the theater rather than luring it away?"

This time, six people pointed to Black-Star... including the ninja himself.

Maka sighed. "Do you know what this is going to do to our soul-counts?" she lamented. "They'll probably knock us all the way back down to one..." it occurred to her that what she was saying was no longer relevant, "...star."

Maka blinked, as though seeing the world through new eyes.

"We're already Death Scythes."

Her teammates nodded.

"They can't take away the souls we've collected as punishment anymore."

"I believe the phrase is, 'too big to fall'" offered Tsubaki, a grin on her face.

"... this means all we have to face is public humiliation, community service, and whatever bizzare punishment Kid's dad, my dad, and Stein come up with?"

"It would seem so," agreed Kid, a thoughtful look on his face.

"Woohoooo!"

* * *

They spent a few minutes congratulating themselves, wandering around the moonlit streets of Death City, secure in the knowledge that they were by far the most dangerous things prowling about that night, until Tsubaki noticed a rather melancholy glint in Black-Star's eyes.

"You're not still depressed about being dumped as meisters, are you?" she asked.

"Yeah," he admitted, rubbing his arm in discomfort.

"I mean," said Maka, sighing, "the whole thing wasn't a complete wash. Kid technically collected enough Kishin and Witch souls to turn Renge into a Death Scythe, so now Black Star's the only one who hasn't..."

"Screw you both," said the Assassin.

"...But two out of three is still pretty bad," Kid finished.

"Why do you even care about technicalities?" asked Patty. "We're all Death Scythes."

"And we would never have achieved that if it weren't for you guys," added Soul. "It's the same with those seven Ouran Weapons."

"You inspired them to go after their dreams of glory and helped them make a good start along that path," agreed Liz. "Isn't that enough?"

The four weapons regarded their meisters with kind expressions, which were returned with awkward smiles.

"In terms of personal fullfillment?" asked Kid. "Yeah, definitely."

"But, in terms of professional pride?" asked Maka. "Not even close."

"What?" asked Soul.

"It's... complicated," said Kid. "When meisters get into fights and debates with each other," he began, "without the use of their weapons, that is, there is a clear, unmistakable divide in status between those who have, with their own hands, created a Death Scythe, and those who have not."

"Stein-sensei, for example," began Maka, "has never created a Death Scythe."

"But he was your father's partner," Liz pointed out. "Plus, isn't he considered one of our most dangerous alumni like, ever?"

"Yeah," agreed Maka, but, dangerous or not, he wasn't actually dad's partner anymore by the time he became a Death Scythe. Mom gets full credit for that one, regardless of the fact that she didn't do all of the work."

Tsubaki frowned. "By that logic," she said, "you would have to say that Liz and I created a Death Scythe each, and that Soul created four all by himself..."

"Yes, exactly," said Kid, nodding. "You have strong reputations among the meisters now for precisely that reason."

"That's stupid," said Patty.

"Never said it wasn't," said Black-Star, "but it's still true."

"Okay, fine," said Soul. "So.. to impress the other kids on the playground, Black-Star still has to create a Death Scythe?"

"Yep," agreed Maka.

"Any idea how?" he asked.

"Work with more Alliance weapons?" suggested Kid.

"Or you could just turn us into Death Scythes a second time," offered Tsubaki.

"Come again?" asked Black-Star.

"Right now, within the Ouran Alliance," began Tsubaki, "there are four alternate versions of us, who never achieved Death Scythe status, because their wielders were unambitious jerks. Don't you think it's your responsibility to fix it?"

"Hmm..."

* * *

Testing the Waters:

"Hiya, Evans!" said a cheerful voice, one which Ouran-Soul recognized immediately as his wielder's... though judging by the happy tone, it was her Death Scythe-universe counterpart.

"Hi, Albarn," he said, repressing the urge to flinch. "Star, Necrophere," he added, upon seeing the other two meisters standing there with her.

Scythe-Maka Albarn paused. "He's Necrophere?" she asked, pointing at Damien's Scythe-verse counterpart for clarificaiton.

"Yes...?" said Ouran-Soul.

"Just to be clear," she said. "You're saying that this guy's name is 'Damien Necrophere'?"

"Yeah?"

Death Scythe Black-Star and -Maka collapsed into a fit of unkind laughter, leaning against each other in a feeble attempt at maintaining balance, but soon fell over anyway and began pounding the floor.

"When you're done with this flattering display" remarked Scythe-Damien, "Didn't you have something to ask Ouran-Evans?"

Scythe-Maka wiped a tear from her eye, before grinning at him. "Fine, fine. Hey..." she said turning to Ouran-Soul. "Are your teeth like that naturally?"

"Like what?" he asked, suspiciously,

"Flat and not-so-pointy," she clarified.

"Ah, no," he answered. "It's a wonderful thing, dental surgery, it really is..."

Scythe-Maka's face fell. "You mean, you were born with freaky-pointy shark teeth?"

"Yes," answered Ouran-Soul with a nod.

"Crap," said Scythe-Maka.

"Looks like he was telling the truth," said Scythe-Necrophere.

"Kid, you owe me five bucks," said Scythe-Black-Star. The Ouran-verse weapons weren't entirely sure who he was talking to.

"Okay," said Scythe-Maka, clearly disappointed, "Thanks."

The three of them turned and began to walk away.

Ouran-Patty raised an eyebrow. "I think we were just used to settle a bet."

"Well, in that case," said Ouran-Soul, now somewhat curious about them in his own right, "turnabout is fair play. Hey, Necrophere!"

"Yes?" said Scythe-Damien.

"What's your name?" Soul asked.

"Oh, I do not have one," he said.

"What?" asked Ouran-Tsubaki, "But everyone has a name!"

"Yeah," said Ouran-Liz, "I mean, everyone except f—"

In that moment, realization struck.

They stared at him.

"Yes," agreed Scythe-Damien, as Scythe-Maka and -Black-Star began laughing anew. "'Except', indeed."

He expanded his aura and let shadows curl about his feet like affectionate pets "I do not have a name," he said, "But my title is 'Death the Kid'."

* * *

Aftermath:

"You know," said Kid, looking slightly guilty as he glanced back at the shell-shocked faces of their four Ouran-verse weapon counterparts, "I think perhaps that those four aren't exactly up for our way of doing things."

"Yeah," said Black-Star. We can try working with Ouran weapons again, I guess. There's like two hundred of 'em... But, I don't know, maybe wait a week or two? Even a big guy like me needs some time off every once in a while."

"Let's go see a movie," suggested Maka.

* * *

...And so the Scythe Dimension wielders decided to leave their Ouran-verse weapon alone.

However, the Ouran weapons were still somewhat curious about their alternate wielders.

* * *

Time Waster's Society:

"So..." began Ouran-Patty, "what exactly are we supposed to do here?"

"Well," said Renge, "are you here for business or pleasure?"

"What?"

"Are you here to have fun, or are you here to find a wielder?"

"Fun."

"Oh, then just join a group who looks like they're doing something interesting. We're pretty low-key."

"Thanks."

"If you ever do start looking for a meister," said Renge, "just hang around one of the hosts for awhile until you can match wavelengths with them."

"Hosts, did you say?" asked Ouran-Liz.

"Suoh, Haninozuka, Morinozuka, the Hitachins, anyone in the Coven, Shiro, or the Zuka Club," she listed. "It's slow-going, since they all work with twenty or thirty weapons in turns, but it's steady as anything."

* * *

After a minute or two of wandering, the Shadow Weapon noticed something. "Hey, look." said Ouran-Tsubaki.

They did. It was their Death-Scythe Verse counterparts. All four of them; as well as their three wielders.

The seven stood in the gym. Ostensibly, they were playing HORSE... but, to be honest, what with all the sabotage and such, it was really closer to basket-dodgeball.

It had been quite some time since they'd seen such showboating, it really had. The seven had arranged themselves in a loose semi-circle, taking it in turns to attempt shots. When one stepped forward or back, the others would mimic them exactly. This might have been considered unfair, due to the differing angles on the backboard, but, to be fair, that thing _had_ burned away nearly a half an hour ago.

The four Ouran weapons watched their counterparts, unnoticed. And, just remembering their own partnerships, it was hard to believe that what they saw before them could possibly be real. Certainly, after learning that this Damien was a death-god, they'd dug up all the rumors about the three wielders: apparently they'd been weapon-turned by a couple of Cats, and about their weapons, who were all supposedly Death Scythes, but this, this was...

it was strangely ordinary was what it was.

For all the extraordinary claims that had been laid at their feet by the wild rumors, the team before them looked like nothing so much as a group of friends killing time on a Saturday afternoon. Not weapons, not wielders, just... companions and comrades.

When Maka Albarn's cell phone went off, however, they were forced to stop their games. She spoke with whoever was on the other end for a few moments.

"Okay," she said, hanging up the phone, then turned to the Shinigami. "Kid, Stein says that your dad says to call him."

"Really? Well then, time out!"

Kid raised his hands to call up a mirror and contacted Lord Death.

What they saw was not entirely ordinary.

Within the mirror made of light, A skeleton wearing a tricorne hat and a ninja outfit, as well as a red uniform that Kid didn't recognize, looked back at them.

In the background, they could see that Mifune wore a bandanna, Marie a ruffled shirt. Stein had painted a small skull and crossbones on his screw.

"Father, what are you doing?" asked Kid, in a cautious deadpan, noting that his father wasn't wearing his Shinigami robes or his mask.

"Complicated psychological warfare, Kid-kun!" answered Lord Death.

"Are you trying to be a matador?" he asked.

"Of course not!" said Patty, interjecting. "Obiously he's a pirate-ninja-star-captain."

"Patty, how did you know that?" asked Lord Death, surprised.

She blinked at him. "Um, It was obvious?"

"Great minds think alike," he said, beaming at her.

After Kid managed to pull his face out of his hands, he asked , "Why did you wish to speak with me, father?"

"Oh, yeah," said Lord Death, as though just remembering something. "You guys in the Alliance right now?"

"Yes, we are."

"Could you ask Ohtori if he wants some planes, submarines, and battleships that we came across recently?"

"'Came across'?"

"Stole."

"All's fair in war," added Stein.

"Besides, we're pirates," said Spirit.

"All right," said Kid, "I'll pass along the message. It was good talking with you, father."

"Bye, Kiddo!"

After that, the four Ouran-verse weapons, very carefully, made their way over to a safer group of people. There were times to reach out and embrace the unknown, and then there were times to hunker down and hide from the darkness. This was one of the latter.

* * *

Of course, actions have consequences, and the theft of a blockade is not to be taken lightly. That evening, a being of shadows and darkness appeared on the Death Yacht, directly in front of Lord Death.

He wore neither mask, nor robes, but he resembled Lord Death. In terms of appearance, he appeared to be nothing more impressive than a bespectacled middle-aged businessman.

"Please excuse the intrusion," said the Death Emperor, "but may I have a word with you?"

"Of course," said Lord Death," not about to be the first to break courtesy.

"Alone," he said, glancing at the Death Scythes.

"No," said Lord Death, sounding nothing but affable. "You are the intruder here. If you have something to say, say it in public."

"Very well, then," he began. "Let me just say that I bear you no animosity. Leave me and mine to our own lives, and we will leave you to yours."

"With the way you treat the humans, you have no right to request such a thing," he said, his voice becoming stern.

"Oh, come now," said the businessman. "You can't actually be that narrow-minded. Look, it's not like I was the one who enslaved the weapons: that was all the humans' doing. I simply left them to their choices—preserving free will, as it were. Would a moralist such as yourself have me destroy that?"

"When the priveleges of some impinge on the rights of others, limits must be drawn," Lord Death answered.

"Seriously? Are you a death-god or not? You know as well as I do that, at the gates of the afterlife, no soul can stand for another's judgment. Their crimes are not now and never will be mine. Do you think your standards are superior to those of the eternal realms?"

"You claim no responsibility for the wellbeing of your Earth? As beings of talent, ignoring our obligations are crimes in and of themselves."

"Your logic is flawed. Beings cannot be better than their inherent nature. I feel no reason to improve human society for the same reason humans feel no obligation to construct a utopia for their animals: the creatures could never appreciate it, and it wastes resources better given to kin."

"What exactly are you saying?" asked Lord Death.

The Death Emperor drew himself up. "We are shadows and they are carbon. Why should we bend over backwards to save a self-destructive race?"

"Then we have nothing more to say to each other," said Lord Death, with an air of finality. "This war will continue."

Light flashed across the Death Emperor's glasses. "Well, I have always been a supporter of assisted suicide," he said, with a cold smirk, "I suppose I can help you out."

Lord Death said nothing, merely regarded the other Shinigami with a level stare until he left.

* * *

AN: As for the religious references in that last conversation... well, the talent and free will ones are fairly transparent. And, if I were feeling deceptive, I could probably say that the 'no soul can stand for another's judgment' line was from creative interpretation of the parable of the sheep and the goats, and that might fool anyone who's only read the Bible... but there's really no hiding that 'shadows and carbon' is just 'fire and clay' reworded.

If anyone's offended, well, I've accepted that it's impossible to reference religion without offending someone. Just remember: servants of darkness masquerade as angels of light. The fact that the bad guy's referencing religion doesn't mean that I view religion as a bad thing. The fact that the good guy is also referencing religion doesn't meant that I think that religion is neutral and it is only people who are good and evil. And... and I'm never going to close all the loopholes here, am I?


	45. Chapter 45

Everyone loves amusement parks, right? The rides, the atmosphere, the long and endless lines...

Okay, maybe not the last one, but... in all honesty? 70% of the time spent at a theme park could very easily consist either of walking to the rides or else standing in line. If one's object of desire is to have a fun day at Six Flags, then find someone likable and wait in line with them. This was an approach taken largely by the Shibusen crowd.

Observe:

* * *

"You know," said Rachel North, leaning over the railing, to watch Team Albarn gleefully trying to run each other off the road on the go-kart track, while they themselves waited in line for The Boss, "I always thought that these places were designed for _kids_."

"Well, yeah," agreed Kirimi Nekozawa, wincing in surprise as Black-Star rammed into Soul's kart, which teetered on two wheels for a bit, almost deciding to tip all the way over, before falling back onto its four tires with a crash, "but I was also always under the impression that Dojinshi works were designed for adults. There's no accounting for taste."

"Why should you have to be a kid to have fun?" asked Angela Leon, giggling softly as Maka sideswiped Black-Star's kart in vengeance, before zooming off to drag race with Tsubaki.

"Line's moving," observed Mifune, and they all walked forward.

* * *

After riding the coaster, they all went on the Carousel. Mifune stood, leaning against one of the stationary horses near the edge of the ride, making sure Angela didn't fall off her silver-maned mount. Rachel helped Kirimi clamber up onto her own trusty steed, and round and round they went. The Elephant Witch had been hanging around Kirimi and Angela that day, acting as something of a tour guide. She was the only one in the Society who had visited that particular amusement park before, and she greatly enjoyed showing off her knowledge.

It was heatstroke-hot that day, which was part of the reason that the amusement park half of the Six Flags was as desolate as it was, most of the patrons having fled to the adjoining water park. On the bright side, this reduced line wait times to by nearly a third, compared to what they'd normally be, on a weekday afternoon in Summer. On the other hand, it was sweltering, and that wasn't fun. Not that the harsh sun had made much difference to most of the Time Wasters Society, even if it did make things a bit uncomfortable. After all, to give in to mere temperature was beneath the pride of even the least stoic student of Shibusen, otherwise they'd never be able to survive in the arid climate containing their school.

To combat the heat, Rachel showed the two younger Witches an out of the way corner of the park that contained the tidal wave ride, which was very much like a log flume, except for the splash-bridge, that is, where people could get their clothes (and themselves) soaking wet from the next riders' splashdown on their way out of the ride.

This allowed them to go on the other rides in a much cooler, if somewhat damper, state. And since most of the attractions had plastic seats, it didn't even make that much of a difference. Or at least, it was too hot to care if this was a bit discourteous to the other patrons.

* * *

Back in line again, and after fifteen minutes of standing in line for the Screaming Eagle, Rachel, Angela and Kirimi were doing their very best to annoy Mifune, in glorious three-part harmony.

"_Here's Mifune._

_There's Mifune,_

_Samurai from Hell Mifune._

_Cool Mifune._

_Fun Mifune._

_'fune_

_'fune_

_Death._

_Half Mifune._

_Twice Mifune._

_Not Mifune._

_Witch._

_Mifune._

_'fune with a scar._

_Rockstar Mifune._

_'fune_

_Death_

_I was once a hitman_

_I lived in the States,_

_but I never saw the way_

_the ninja won debates._

_I was almost stabbed to death_

_now I teach at school_

_come now listen little child_

_'cause Mifune rules!_

_Here's Mifune_

_There's Mifune_

_Samurai from Hell, Mifune..."_

...and so on.

* * *

And, over in line for the Ferris Wheel, Belzenef and Blair were having flashbacks, for no other reason besides the fact that there is a certain comfort in simply knowing that another is near, as it allows the mind to more freely wander, knowing it is not alone.

* * *

Belzenef's remembrance was rather emotive, and had taken place four years ago:

* * *

"Get the information from the prisoner," his supervisor had told him, "use any means necessary."

Which Belzenef interpreted to mean, 'use standard and approved interrogation techniques'. He hated his job, he hated his boss, and he didn't particularly care if the whole organization went to Hell on his watch.

Two days later, the prisoner still still hadn't cracked, and they'd transferred him off to Silas, another interrogator. Belzenef wasn't exactly sure what was going to happen next, but he was sure that it wouldn't be good.

Sure enough, two hour later, he was called into his boss's office.

"Belzenef," said his supervisor, giving him a long stare, "You had that prisoner for two days, and he never said a word?"

"No sir."

"Silas got the prisoner to crack in under an hour."

"Did he, sir?"

"If we'd had this information two days earlier, we would have salvaged everything. Now, through your incompetence, we've lost, and lost badly."

"Yes sir."

"Belzenef, you are hereby stripped of your rank. You shall serve as the lowest of the low until you've repaid your debt to the Coven and its cause."

"Understood."

With that, he left the room.

For a long time afterwards, he'd wished for nothing more fervently than that the whole thing had never happened. Now, it seemed that no one knew in his new circle knew about his past, not even Blair, so it was very much the same thing.

Had the whole debacle been worth it? he often asked himself.

No, it hadn't been, not really. His employers were definitely evil scumbags, but the prisoner had also been a criminal of the worst sort. When he refused to torture the man, all that had happened was that someone else had done it instead, and because he'd drawn attention to himself, his freedom and career had both been forfeit.

But damned if he wouldn't have done it again.

* * *

Blair, on the other hand, didn't really do serious drama, and was merely reminiscing about her first meetings with people:

* * *

How Blair first met GLaDOS:

The Human Cat had been wandering curiously through the halls of Aperture Science, when a voice over the intercom interrupted her.

"You," said the voice.

"Mraow?" said Blair.

"How did you get in here?"

"Pumpkin Power."

* * *

How Blair first met Kyoya Ohtori:

Kyoya had actually once helped her, thinking she was nothing more than an ordinary cat. Or, rather, Hani had taken her in, and gotten Kyoya to get her medical attention. Kyoya had helped then. He'd taken to learning how to fix his weapons' occasional health problems himself, as going to the doctor was as good as admitting that he was weak and inviting another assassination attempt. And, anyway, he was a death-god. He was naturally skilled at killing... and it's counterpart, healing.

"If my brothers realize that you feel affection for that animal," he'd told Haninozuka, "they'll probably kill it to get at me."

"We'll be careful, Kyo-chan," Hani assured him. "Thanks!"

"Nya. Yeah, thanks!"

"..."

"Takashi, did neko-chan just talk?"

"Of course I did," said Blair.

* * *

How Blair first met Belzenef:

Blair actually doesn't even remember how she and Belzenef first met, so this instance wasn't included in her flashback.

Belzenef on the other hand, still has nightmares about it.

* * *

Ritsu Kasanoda, for his part, was tagging along with Umehito Nekozawa while he went on all the Batman-themed rides. The two were in line to ride the Batman roller coaster.

The aisles and fenced-off portions of the walkways to the ride itself had been designed to look like Gotham City, complete with murals of the skyline and a fake fountain. They'd just passed Ragnarok, who, rather than actually waiting for anything, was hanging around, adding to the gum wall, creating his own disgusting mural, as well as Excalibur who was singing while tap-dancing on the hood of the fake cop car crashed into a fake fire hydrant that they had there for ambiance.

One Witch was entitled to speak for all Witches in their Coven, so it was essential that they know each other very well. So it was only expected that Ritsu noticed the rather dark mood surrounding Umehito. Actually, 'dark' wasn't the right word. All of Umehito's moods were dark, even (and probably especially) when he was happy.

No, this was a troubled mood, and he had a guess as to what was causing it.

"It's the Elephant, right?" he asked.

"Yes, I suppose it is," Nekozawa answered. "I do wish she'd join the Coven. All this insisting that she'll be fine on her own and that she needs to be independent, it's just like..."

"Eclair," Kasanoda agreed.

Umehito nodded. "And now she's spending time with Kirimi and Angela-kun. This could be good for young Rachel, but it will more likely be bad for the other girls. If the Elephant Witch falls to the Sway, it could affect Angela, It could affect Kirimi."

"It could," Kasanoda admitted, "But I doubt it would. If Kirimi didn't give in to the Sway when Eclair did, then it's likely that she'll never fall to it, now. You know this, man. It's not how old you are that triggers the Sway, it's loss of childhood's innocence. And that kid, with her love of harem romance, hasn't been anywhere near innocence for months if not years. Isn't that why you let her read those trashy books in the first place? So she could face the Sway on her own terms?"

"To some extent," Nekozawa said. "I took her actions as as sign that she was exploring autonomy and the ramifications of choice. Looking for maturity in a social context rather than through magical power. But I could very easily be wrong..."

"She has you," Kasanoda pointed out. "You, who resisted the Sway out of love for your innocent sister. She even has me, and Haruhi, and Ryoji Fujioka. You've done good, man. She'll be fine."

Nekozawa sighed. "I hope so, I really do."

* * *

Most people were at the water park that day, which was more crowded, but also the 'cooler' place to be, in multiple senses of the word.

Kyoya Ohtori had gone with them, though judging from the way he'd rolled out the recruitment speech on several of the people standing in line for the raft ride, he was there more for business than pleasure. Next to him Tamaki, obviously there for pleasure, was flirting with all the girls he saw.

Of course, most of the Alliance Time Wasters had found that there was also an obvious solution to the whole line dilemma: namely, staying in public places. And taking this route was, primarily, an Ouran approach.

For instance:

* * *

Hani and Mori were on their fifth trip around the lazy river, when Tsubaki joined them, when Team Albarn had decided to switch over to the water park. The three then proceeded to talk shop in a manner incomprehensible to all but the most combat-minded of Death Scythes, forming their own elite weapons circle of sorts.

Haruhi and the twins were in the wave pool, though Haruhi soon made excuses to go sunbathe with Maka Albarn and Chrona. The black-blooded meister was well-aware that Ragnarok was running amok, creating chaos, but was confident that he'd stop short of committing any felonies.

Kid, Liz, Patty, Soul, and Black-Star, on the other hand, without the influence of two of their more vocal killjoy—er, 'responsible people', were exploring the forest lands adjacent to the park, occasionally coming across a cell phone or a hat that someone had lost while riding one of the coasters.

It was there that they found Rachel North.

* * *

"Hello, Rachel," said Kid.

"Hi, guys," she said. "What are you doing out here?"

"Stealing stuff," said Black-Star, peering at her from behind his three pairs of sunglasses. "How 'bout you?"

"Just... practicing," she said, allowing a few sparks to jump from her hands.

They froze.

"You're a Witch," said Kid.

"Yeah?" said Rachel, obviously waiting for the rest of that statement. When it wasn't forthcoming, she looked a bit concerned.

"Why is this suddenly a big deal?" she asked. "You've known about me for months now..."

"We've what?" asked Kid. Then, a look of sudden comprehension crossed his face.

"...oh, okay," he said, grinning in apology. "Sorry, memory experiment gone wrong," he told her, by way of explanation. "We've been finding fun new things that we've forgotten all this past week."

"You forgot about me, like, completely?" Rachel asked.

"Sorry," said Patty.

"No, no, it's fine," Rachel assured her. "Um, so you really did lose your memories, then?"

"You think we're lying?" asked Soul.

"It had crossed my mind," she admitted. "I know you don't remember why you erased your own memories, but it wasn't actually necessary for you to go that far..."

"Did you have something to do with the incident last week?" asked Liz, suspiciously.

"Kind of?" said Rachel with a shrug. "I'd had a relapse and stolen a few things. I asked you for help, and you said that you'd take care of things... and then the next thing I knew, you'd gone and take the blame for everything I've stolen, and erased the knowledge that you'd done it, and even the fact that I'm a Witch. It's kind of weird, but it's an awesome kind of weird."

"..."

"You don't believe me?" she asked.

"Actually," said Kid, "I was just thinking that it sounds a lot like something we would do..."

* * *

AN: Yay, product placement! If anyone cares, it's probably not that hard to figure out which Six Flags I drew inspiration from (though it has, admittedly, been ten years since I've actually been there myself. Ah, nostalgia).

Also, 'Mifune Song' was to the tune of 'The Llama Song'.


End file.
